Accidentally Bound, for Better or Worse
by BrotherMaynard12533
Summary: An unfocused mind often causes more damage than one whose sole intent is mischief.  Accidental magic brings Harry and Daphne together but if it's accidental is it meant to be and can it remain?  JK Rowling owns these characters, not me.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Harry Potter or any associated characters. I own the plot and only barely. If you like what I've written please let me know. Thank you.**

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**August 1993**

By in large, Mankind's problem with change is that they have no control over it, and therefore it is scary. Properly working toasters don't spontaneously burn the house down, Elm tree's can't sprout legs and walk off, you can't go to sleep and overnight and have Latvia become the most powerful nation in the world, and you can't go to sleep a committed bachelor and wake up married with two kids and a mortgage.

Changes' problem with mankind, is that, by in large, they just don't get the joke. Toasters, like all things break down over time, and just because yesterday the toast was a bit dark, doesn't mean that today your house is safe from fire. As for the Elm tree, how do you know that the eighty year old tree that used to be in the backyard; but is currently taking up your favorite seat on the living room sofa didn't just trip? Latvia will have it's day, just wait for it. And ask people coming home from Las Vegas, some crazy things can happen overnight.

Now Harry Potter didn't usually have any problems with change. When you live with a family as stuck in their ways as the Dursley's, change is often quite refreshing. Weather it was Tuesday's dinner being fish and chips instead of spaghetti, or whenever Uncle Vernon got a new car, or even the days when Dudley swaps his dirty shirt for a clean one, change was usually a good thing. Heck, even the change of Aunt Marge coming to stay for a week was good, even though she was rude and crass while staying, in the end, Harry was happily staying the remainder of his summer vacation in a room overlooking Diagon Alley instead of a room overlooking a side yard.

I say he didn't usually have a problem with change, because today he had a problem. A rather big, life altering problem. Fortescue's was out of real whipped cream, and did he want some of the fake stuff on his sundae or not? The answer was yes, yes he did. Now, some of you might be asking, how exactly is an ice cream topping a life altering problem. Besides the fact that real whipped cream is infinitely better than the fake stuff, in all honesty it isn't. What makes this issue life altering is that the ten seconds it took Harry to decide allowed the witch that would become his future wife to walk in the store.

Now, this isn't one of those romantic comedies where a spot light from the heavens shines down, illuminating her face, nor did he feel a spark or an itch or even a pair of eyes watching the back of his head. In fact, Harry didn't even realize who had just entered the store, but he had to squeeze past them to get to his favorite chair in the outdoor section. If any of you doubt weather or not this couple was fated to be together or not, take this as a sign. Harry's first words to his wife, even though he didn't realize it at the time were:

"Excuse me."

Hasn't even been on one date and he's already apologizing. That's true love.

Anyway, as Harry was sitting down and enjoying his treat, the same girl he had squeezed past on his way out, left with a double scoop waffle cone of Double Chocolate chip and a take out pint of Peanut Butter and Chocolate chip. Seeing this cause three revelations to pop into his head. One; that was Daphne Greengrass, two; she was carrying what, at least to Harry, was 'I'm feeling sorry for myself food'. Three; Peanut Butter and Chocolate chip sounded really good.

What Harry didn't know about, didn't care about, and in fact would remain blissfully ignorant of (for at least a while longer) was that Daphne saw him. Not in the ice cream parlor, but just from the corner of her eye as she swept out the door and on to her next destination.

'Hey, isn't that Potter?' Flashed through her brain at the speed of thought and just as quickly she had moved on to her next topic of thought, how much she hated whipped cream. You see, Daphne had a lot on her mind that particular day, and that would be the catalyst for events to come. In magic, an unfocused mind often creates more problems than one with the intention to cause mischief.

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**Still August, still 1993**

Early morning was Harry's favorite. He could eat breakfast and go into the Alley before it became too crowded. Today he had woken up with plans on finishing his history homework, which came with the added benefit of Fortescue's great ice cream, and then maybe he'd hang around Quality Quidditch supplies or just wander for the remainder of the day. When Tom handed Harry a note bearing the seal from Gringotts, Harry thanked the kind old bar keeper and opened the envelope eagerly. He expected this to be an account balance that he had asked for yesterday, but was surprised to find it a request for a meeting later on today.

After a productive day of writing and eating, Harry entered the hallowed halls of Gringotts and was politely escorted to a private meeting room. Inside were two people, one of which he didn't know at all, but if pressed, would say that it was Mr. Greengrass. This was mainly because Daphne was the second person in the room, but also because upon closer inspection he had a name tag that clearly said, Hi! My name is Paul G. Neither looked like they wanted to be here at all, with the elder almost radiating anger while Daphne had her head down and seemed to be embarrassed about something.

Compared to what Harry knew about wizarding culture, neither appeared how he expected, both in terms of their emotions, they didn't seem to be haughty and superior, but neither were they dressed in fancy silk robes or had on ridiculously expensive clothing. Their shoes were just that, shoes, and didn't seem to be made of dragon hide or even cow hide. That's not to say that they weren't dressed nicely, but it was more like when muggles dressed nicely. Mr. Greengrass was wearing black robes over a white button up dress shirt, with a black tie and black pants. If the robes were a a jacket, he wouldn't be out of place at a wedding, or maybe one of those fancy award ceremonies for film or music. He was a physically fit man with black or dark brown hair that was kept short and he didn't appear to be older than forty, but with the longevity of wizards, he might be older. His brown eyes were locked on Harry as the boy entered, before they dropped to glare at the back of his daughter's head.

Daphne was wearing a red t-shirt with "Stonehenge Rocks" on the front. Either she had done something to her normally blond hair, or the red in her shirt was causing a bit of red to appear as highlights in her hair. She wore faded blue jeans and seemed infinitely fascinated with the fraying lace on her white trainers. She wasn't wearing robes, which Harry had noticed seemed to be a trend among the younger witches and wizards. Adults seemed to wear them everywhere, but to kids, robes were akin to dress jackets and were left in the closet at every opportunity. He knew she had these bright blue eyes, but since she was staring a hole in her sneakers, he couldn't currently see them.

The goblin that had escorted Harry to the meeting motioned towards a chair that was opposite the two Greengrasses. A very impressive, very large table was situated between the two, which suddenly felt like a good thing, due to the intensity in the room. There was a deathly silence in the room as no one spoke for a minute, each side just staring at each other, or their shoes.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Greengrass has asked that this meeting be strictly between the three of you, and since it is against Gringott's rules to leave armed wizards alone, we must ask you to temporarily surrender your wand for the duration of this meeting. They have already done so, and I'm afraid I cannot leave until you have either agreed to their terms or declined to continue this meeting." The goblin spoke. He motioned to a square box sitting in the middle of the great table, made of either wrought iron or very tarnished brass, which rotated 180 degrees to show harry that two wands were already inside.

Though he was now curious as to what kind of meeting could require the relinquishing of a wand, Harry placed his wand in the box. The goblin raised his hand the box floated over to the edge of the table, where it was locked magically and then carried out. The three were now alone and the discussion on whatever this was could begin.

"Mr. Potter, I'm sorry for meeting under these circumstances, but-"

"This is your fault!" Daphne yelled, the first words she had ever spoken to him.. Her hands were balled into fists and only her father's hand on her left shoulder was preventing her from reaching over the table and attempting to pummel Potter into pieces.

"Sorry, but how is this my fault, I don't know why we're here?" Harry asked, a bit louder than was necessary, but honestly having no idea why he was here, he didn't take getting yelled at well. Now, everyone knows there are things you shouldn't say to a woman, even if you aren't married to said woman just yet. 'Yes it does.' is at the top of that list, followed closely by any remark that contains the words 'your sister' and 'hot.' Only slightly lower is the question, "How is this my fault."

Daphne's eyes shone cold and her mouth opened to respond, but her father must have squeezed her shoulder because instead of whatever retort she had planned, she simply shut her mouth, crossed her arms and turned her head away.

"Nothing is your fault, Mr. Potter. Daphne is just upset, we all are actually, but none of it is any fault of your own." Mr. Greengrass spoke while keeping his eye on Daphne, but directing all his attention to Harry. "These past few days have been pretty hard on our family and while you're not at fault for any of it, this does involve you."

"I don't see how...er, sir." Harry replied. "I don't believe I've said more than two words to you or your daughter before today, and I can't remember ever having met you before today either."

"You are not mistaken." Paul replied. "But I think Daphne needs to explain how this involves the two of you."

At first the girl didn't speak, instead she turned her head further away from the table, and snorted in indignation. "Daphne..." Her father warned.

"It was accidental all right! Accidental magic." She yelled, still not daring to look Harry in the eyes. The soon to be third year Gryffindor though he heard her mutter "It's still your fault." under her breath, and judging by the darting glare her father sent her, he heard it too.

"I'm afraid I don't see what Daphne doing magic has to do with me." Harry stated, finding the interplay between the two sitting opposite him quite funny. Daphne didn't offer any answer, but Paul Greengrass reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment that he had folded into three. He pushed the yellowed paper to Harry and silently gave him permission to open this parcel. It was a standard form letter, almost identical to the one he received the year previous for that pudding incident. The only difference he noticed, besides the obvious fact that it wasn't addressed to him, was that instead of a spell being listed, all the letter said was **_Bonding_**_._ He read through the letter twice, just to be certain that he hadn't missed something, before raising his eyes. He opened his mouth to once more ask how he was involved in this, but Paul cut him off.

"I know that didn't answer your question, but you needed to see that before I could explain." Harry nodded, feeling that this was a gigantic waste of time the more he spent around these two.

"Earlier in the week Daphne spent the day at a friends house. Not having been there, I don't know what went on, and all Daphne would tell me was that they were talking about boys when she performed her bout of accidental magic, which not having been a teenage girl, I have no idea what that means and my wife just laughed at me when I asked her. But that's not important; anyway, we received this notice shortly there after and were just as perplexed as you to read what she had done. I was going to contact the Ministry for clarification, but it turns out that they didn't know what bonding meant any more than I did and asked for Daphne to appear and submit to some simple tests and we obliged."

Harry suddenly had a sense of foreboding, just like if this were a cheesy movie. Tests were never a good sign. Since they had already done the tests, this only left a few options. 1, the earlier tests were only able to signal him out and they needed to do more, or 2, the tests explained how bonding could require a meeting between a Slytherin, a Gryffindor and the Slytherin's father.

"The tests were only able to tell us a few things. First off, it it was determined that you were the target of my daughter's magic. Almost all the other findings seemed to be random and contradictory. I was given a list of things that had changed by Daphne's spell, but it wasn't until I showed it to a good friend of my who is a barrister that we were able to get our heads around what had happened."

Now, perhaps it was because he was only thirteen, or because he was a teenage boy and you know how well they think things through. Or perhaps Harry was just naive, maybe it was just his lack of understanding of the magical world. Whatever the reason, at this point, he was expecting something along the lines of 'if you ever touch my daughter you two will become glued together forever'. Or something similarly stupid Instead, Paul ruined his day by saying this.

"Are you familiar with Common-law marriages?"

Though his mouth was dry, Harry managed to choke on his own spit.

"What!"

"The process where by two people who have lived together for an extended period of time are given the same rights as married couples despite never having performed an official ceremony or filing for a marriage certificate. You are unaware what that is?" Mr. Greengrass asked, as it wasn't something that was likely to have come up in conversation in most households.

"No, I know what a common law marriage is...are you saying we're married?" Harry asked, gesturing wildly towards himself and Daphne who choked a bit herself at the idea.

"Well, not exactly." Harry blinked. You either were married or you weren't, there wasn't a somewhat married. You couldn't be married every other weekend and holidays, you couldn't even be partially married to as many different people as it took to create a whole marriage.

"I don't understand. If we aren't married, then why did you ask me if I knew what a common-law marriage was?"

"I apologize if I mislead you, the reason that I asked was that Common Law marriage was the closest thing that exists to your current relationship with my daughter."

"How so?"

"Well, according to the laws of England and the United Kingdom, you can only be common law spouses if both parties are of age to be wed, you can't already be married and it must be a consensual marriage. Since neither of you are old enough to be wed, even with parental agreement, you aren't married. But somehow you both have the same rights as a married couple.

"So we're what? Engaged? Bound together like soul mates? Betrothed to each other? What?" Harry asked, relieved that he wasn't married at thirteen.

"No. Not exactly. A betrothal contract would require the signature of your parents or legal guardians, which not only don't we have, we won't be seeking; same goes for engaged at your ages. You can't be engaged without parental agreement, and there isn't a legal definition of soul mates, so you're good there. Right know, we don't really know what this means, neither of you seem to be supernaturally attracted to each other, so there is no emotional attraction that has been created. Daphne hasn't told me about any new abilities or powers, as you can see, she hasn't suddenly sprouted two heads, which is always a good thing. Honestly, we don't know what this bond means or what will happen. This meeting was to inform you of this...connection that you now have."

"Let me see if I got this right." Harry felt the need to double check his understanding of the situation, and come on, someone you've never met before requests a meeting, drops words like Common-law marriage and you think you can keep all the facts straight through that? Good luck. "She," he pointed at Daphne, "did some accidental magic and somehow we're now 'bonded'. We're not married, not engaged, not even required to attend counseling sessions but she has all the rights of my wife?" Harry's anger was rising with each word he spoke. If he couldn't calm down he would end up saying something he would regret. 'If I'm lucky.' He though remembering how he had inflated his 'Aunt' earlier this month.

"Yes. No one we could find has been able to explain what happened between the two of you, what it means or what will, could or might happen in the future." Paul explained calmly. When the meeting had begun he had been angry, but not at Harry. Daphne had balked at even attending this meeting, thinking it would be best to just ignore this bond and let come what may. Paul was a fair, law abiding man and felt it at sporting, if not morally required, that he inform this young man of what his daughter had done. As the conversation went on, and Harry Potter's rage and anger became more and more pronounced, Paul felt his own emotions leveling off. Someone would have to at least try and keep the peace, and if it wasn't going to be Potter, then it fell to him to be the voice of reason, as Daphne surely wouldn't keep her tongue if pressed.

"Just where in the hell do you get to be angry over any of this!" Harry exploded. At first he had been intrigued by the meeting, but as more and more new information was piled onto him, the more calm Mr. Greengrass became, almost as if this was something he did regularly. Telling orphaned wizards that some girl they had never given the time of day to was now legally his...something.

"Mr. Potter -"

"No! I've listened to you for the past half an hour, so the least you owe me is to listen to me for the time being!" Mr. Greengrass closed his mouth and allowed Harry to continue. "I can understand that she wouldn't want to be associated with a Gryffindor like me, but I fail to see where you get off judging me just because I'm in a different house than your daughter!" He accused angrily. He was quite sure that the anger he had seen earlier had been was because of who he was, not the circumstances that lead up to the meeting.

"Mr. Potter,...Harry, I don't assume to speak for my daughter, but I must correct you. I don't care what house you were sorted into and if Daphne does than that is her opinion, although I had hoped to instill a belief that house lines don't matter, she is her own person." Paul's voice was strong and authoritative and Harry was instantly chastised.

"I do not deny that when you walked in I was in a foul mood, but it had nothing to do with you. Daphne and I had an argument prior to your arrival as to weather this meeting should even be happening. I am sorry that you feel I am adding too much to your life, I truly am. No child should be saddled with such knowledge at such an age, but I would rather the both of you know than remain ignorant until something happens down the road and we are unable to help or protect the two of you."

There was another bout of awkward silence as Harry allowed himself to feel guilty for jumping to a conclusion like that. Daphne was trying her hardest not to feel responsible for this situation, and Paul was trying to formulate the best way to tell Potter that his daughter may have access to his vaults. Another 'perk' of this new situation they found themselves in.

"You said you were given a list of things that changed?" Harry asked after a moment. "Of what rights we have in regards to each other, right?"

Paul nodded and reached into his robes a second time, for second piece of parchment, once more folded into thirds. It wasn't a long list, there were only a few items on it and honestly, not too many of them were very important. While they weren't married or engaged, they did have a bit of a relationship now. Since there was nothing preventing either one from marrying someone else of their choosing, the other 'bond mate' had a kind of veto, where they could try and force the bond to be recognized, something that Paul barrister friend had noted was (a spotty argument at best). If successful, they would be recognized as common-law husband and wife. Both had the right to visit the other in the hospital and had the right to see copies of bank statements, taxes, and holdings, though they couldn't sign forms for the other. It wasn't until Harry reached the bottom of the short list that something caught his eye.

"It says here 'bank accounts shared?' You actually have access to my accounts?" Harry asked shocked. The vault he had was, to his knowledge, all he had to live off of while out of school, and he wasn't even sure if he had to pay for tuition or room and board each year.

"Well, we're not sure." Paul answered. "One of the reasons I picked Gringotts as a meeting place was the regulation on wands. This is an emotional issue and accidental magic has already cost us all enough. Secondly, the goblins don't have any stake in this turn of events and thirdly, we wanted to ask for clarification on that issue ourselves." Harry nodded. He wanted answers as well. And then he wanted dinner and a good long nap, but first thing first.

Mr. Greengrass walked to the door and pulled it open. The goblin that had escorted Harry in was waiting patiently outside.

"We have a question about the policies of the bank, are you able to help us?" He asked politely.

"I will assist as best I am able, but I may not be able to answer you." The goblin replied.

"Please come in." Paul invited and held the door open for the goblin who quickly stepped in and allowed the door to slam shut behind him. Paul returned to his seat and sat down, while the goblin stood at the head of the table.

"Recently, some accidental magic has bound Mr. Potter and my daughter together and, while we don't know what that means exactly, the ministry has provided a list of rights that reflect the current relationship between the two." Paul motioned towards Harry and the list he still held in his hands. Harry realized that this was his cue, passed the list onto the goblin who removed a pair of spectacles from his shirt pocket and scanned through the list.

"Judging by the question mark on this last item you are unsure as to how these two are affected financially, am I correct?" He received nods from all in the room. " Allow me to check our records to see if either Mr. Potter or Ms. Greengrass' names appear on any accounts other than their own." He quickly walked out the door, leaving the list sitting on the edge of the table. A couple of minutes later he returned with another goblin and three sealed envelopes. Passing one envelope to Harry and the other two to Daphne and her father he gave them a moment to study them.

"As you can see, since the Ministry is not recognizing this as a marriage, neither are we. All accounts are registered to only the people they were originally set up for and the permissions for those accounts have remained unchanged as well." Everyone let out a small sigh of relief at this news. "I take it from your reactions that this is good news?"

"Yes." Everyone chorused.

"Given that this is new territory to both you and Gringotts, I have brought the head of our legal department Strongclaw to give you our standing in all this."

Strongclaw was a much older goblin, with wrinkly skin and graying hair. He thanked his younger coworker and cleared his throat before addressing the humans.

"As my colleague stated, this is a new area for all of us. While currently we would deny Mr. Potter access to Ms. Greengrass' vault, I cannot say for certain that in the future that would not change. What I recommend would be to have these two sign contracts that would explicitly deny access to the other's vaults. This can always be reversed if situations change, but for now it seems to be the most sensible thing to do."

Harry looked at Mr. Greengrass, whose eyes clearly showed that he agreed with the suggestion, and Daphne, to Harry's surprise, was looking up instead of at her shoes, agreed with him. Fifteen minutes and a small service fee (that the Mr. Greengrass insisted on paying, despite Harry's protests) the three were able to retrieve their wands and exit Gringotts. Before he could return to the Leaky Cauldron for dinner and that nap, Harry was stopped by Daphne grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around to face her.

"Look, I don't like this any more than you do-" Harry snorted in agreement, earning him a cold glare. "We might be 'bonded' and while we don't know what that means, I can assure you that I will be ignoring it for as long as possible. We might have more rights and privileges towards each other, but I won't exercise any of them if you don't. Deal?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. While most of what existed between the two of them was on paper only, he couldn't help but feel that this might be important down the road. But he hadn't arrived to that destination just yet.

"Deal. None of this happened, agreed?"

"Agreed!"

The two went their separate ways and true to his word, Harry didn't speak of this to anyone. Which is how one year later, Harry would get into a major fight with his best friend, but again, that was down the road and he wasn't there yet. The remainder of summer came and went, Harry spent his days exploring the shopping center of magical London and Daphne spent her summer...doing whatever it was that she did. They didn't care about what happened to the other and instead enjoyed themselves while there was still what felt like England between them. In reality the Greengrass' lived in Wales, so there wasn't really that much between them, but it felt an entire country.

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**November 3, 1994**

Ron Weasley wasn't the biggest fan of change. About the most change he could handle was if the Chudley Cannons were a bit better, but since they had been pretty much horrible his entire life, he wasn't sure about that. There was something reassuring about knowing that the Cannons would loose every match they played. It took a lot of guessing out of life, and that was what Ron liked about them.

Yes, to Ron same = safe. But not much had been staying the same lately. First there was the Triwizard tournament happening at the school, where one student from each of the three biggest magic schools in Europe competed for fame, glory and a thousand galleons. All in all, that was okay with Ron, while it shook his world up a little, the excitement made up for it and getting to be within a hundred feet of Viktor Krum would make his year. At least it had, until three nights ago when Harry had been selected as a _**fourth**_ champion. Ignoring the fact that Quadwizard tournament sounded ridiculous, Harry was once more thrust squarely into the spotlight. That was normal for Harry, always getting the attention, always the one that everyone wanted to be around. For once Ron was looking forward to being out of the spotlight and having Harry there to accompany him. But no!

Now, it was likely a mistake that he had lost his temper and blown up at Harry right after he had been returned to the common rooms, but Ron was once more left out of the glory that was Harry's spot light. Ron felt guilty about it almost immediately, but delayed apologizing until today because he had other things on his mind. He was going to make a quiet apology just before Potions. His plan was good, Harry was usually so distracted before potions, worrying about how mean Snape would be that he often didn't pay attention to much and would agree to anything. This was a sound plan, but as the saying goes, even the best of plans don't survive first contact with the enemy. And Ron Weasley was about to come into contact with the enemy.

The first flaw in his plan was that he ran late. By the time he got to potions he didn't have time to apologize to Harry before hand, and would have to do it later. Still he thought it no problem and would simply delay his return to good graces. Had he been more astute, Ron would have noticed that Harry was more distracted than usual, but not due to Snape. Something was going on with the Slytherins, but not their normal something. On any other day, the bulk of their time would be spent heckling Harry, especially since the events of Halloween. Today they were quiet...too quiet. It didn't sit well with Harry but since he was expecting to be the focus of their attacks, it was a complete shock when he noticed Draco Malfoy almost every other Slytherin behaving like angels for the duration of class. Since it was their last class before lunch, everyone filed out quickly trying to make it out of the cold dungeons and into the relative warm of the Great Hall. Harry got stuck behind cleaning up his supplies and as such was the last Gryffindor to leave. Ron waited patiently outside and was going over his words in his head when Harry came out, just as Draco and his usual posse re-appeared from the direction of the Slytherin common room, smiling and generally seeming pleased. Two things that should cause even the most brave hearted of Gryffindors pause in worry.

Draco caught Harry's eyes as the Gryffindor exited the classroom and the smirk that appeared on the blond ferret's face sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He saw Ron waiting for him and was going to ignore him, but Ron seemed to be nervous, which Harry knew that whatever he was going to say would be difficult for the red head, hopefully an apology. Just as Ron started to speak Harry noticed Daphne and another Slytherin in their year, Tracey Davis storming out of the depths of the castle. Daphne was moving quickly while Tracey seemed to be trying to pull the girl back towards the dungeons. They were halfway up the stairway when Daphne turned around and said something to Tracey that Harry couldn't hear, but when she turned around she was facing him and he could see her face. She had a bruise forming on her left cheek and her left eye was beginning to blacken and swell up. She had a cut and fattened lip and though these injuries looked fresh, she didn't have any tears flowing from her eyes, just a steely look that showed how determined she was not to show any hurt.

She only faced Harry for a second and then she was gone up the stairs, leaving Tracey alone on the stairs. Ron hadn't noticed, he had just continued talking, not realizing that Harry wasn't paying him a lick of attention. Behind him, Tracey turned around and finally seemed to notice Harry and Ron. She had tears in her eyes, either because of what happened to Daphne or because of what the blond had said to her. They weren't falling, it seemed to be a Slytherin trait that you didn't show emotion in the presence of others. But when she saw Harry something clicked in her and her brown eyes sharpened. Even thought the plan that had just leaped into her head was beyond risky, she felt it was her friends only hope. Tucking a lock of her caramel brown hair behind her right ear, she inhaled deeply and marched down the steps, coming to a stop behind Weasley (who still hadn't realized that Harry wasn't paying any attention to him) and waited. After a few seconds of Ron talking things just became too awkward and Harry decided to cut him off.

"Ron, I think we need to continue this conversation later, I've got someone I need to speak to."

"Who?" Ron asked rather dumbly, never noticing the presence of the Slytherin behind him.

"That would be me Weasley, now if you'll excuse us..." She let the sentence fall into silence as Ron jumped at her voice before turning back to Harry and noticing the resolve in his eyes agreed that his apology could wait. But he wasn't leaving.

"Fine, but I'm not leaving Harry alone with a snake." Ron was practically growling, daring Tracey, who was a good three inches shorter than Harry, which made her almost eight inches shorter than Ron, to make a move. Tracey wouldn't be suckered in by Ron's attempt at a taunt, and if Potter wanted to have some backup then whatever.

"I need to ask you a favor." She began, eyes never loosing contact with the shorter of her two conversation mates. "Well, it's for Daphne actually, but if she knew I was asking you to do this she'd kill me."

"What'd you do?" Ron asked. "Borrow her favorite top and get pudding on it?" Poor, poor Ron. Trying so hard to be funny and just not even coming close.

"Potter, you need to talk with Dumbledore and get him to help her. Draco turned most of the House against her and they attacked her just now!" She started out strong but her voice turned pleading at the end. Daphne was her friend and though she might not be able to directly help her, if Tracey could convince Potter, than she would have to settle for that.

"Why would Malfoy attack someone in his own house?" Harry asked, inadvertently cutting off another Weasley ill-timed joke.

"I don't know how, but somehow he found out about that thing from last summer." Tracey replied, ignoring the lost look that Ron had on his face.

"What thing?" The red head asked. While he didn't get it, it only took Harry a second to realize what Tracey was tip toeing around and realized that Tracey must have been the friend that Daphne was meeting with when the accidental magic occurred.

"What do you want me to go to Dumbledore for? Surely Snape can help you."

"No, Professor Snape is too busy with inter-house issues and the tournament to deal with this, you need to go to Dumbledore and get him to help. This is the worst it's gotten, but Draco's been trying to get a rise out of Daphne since Halloween. He's convinced Pansy and Millicent to break into her things and he's got the rest of the house against her."

"Again, why don't you go to Dumbledore. What can I do that you can't?" Harry asked. He really hoped that there wasn't any thing different, because either his saving people thing was kicking in, or he was actually feeling sorry for Daphne, and he tended to help people when he felt sorry for them.

Tracey fidgeted with her hands and ducked her head. Ron was staring between the two like they were speaking Japanese. Harry was speaking civilly to a Slytherin. Harry! A Slytherin! The two didn't mix, shouldn't mix! Harry was the Slytherin killer, both figuratively and literally! Basilisk, dead, Voldemort, dead-ish! Slytherin quidditch team, beaten every year he'd played them! He wasn't supposed to get along with them, he was supposed to make them cry in pity and shame! He was going to ask what the hell was going on when Tracey found her nerve and cut him off at the knees.

"You can get her into the married quarters!" She spoke so quickly that Ron had trouble hearing properly, because he though she said married quarters.

"NO!" Harry yelped, surprised at her request. This wasn't what Ron was expecting. He was thinking more along the lines of a what, or a huh? Maybe a saaay whaaat? But not a no. No was far too understanding for what Davis had said. No meant Harry knew what he was being asked of him. "I mean," Gryffindor's golden boy continued, flustered. "don't get me wrong, I want to help, if only to piss off Malfoy, but we both agreed that we'd ignore it and that is the exact opposite of ignoring it! Married quarters, no! I mean, I'll help you prank Malfoy, I'll turn him into a fly and squash him, but married quarters-they have those?"

Harry continued to ramble on, every other sentence ending with either the words 'married quarters' or some outlandish plot to embarrass Draco. Tracey felt that his constant use of the word meant that he wasn't totally unresponsive to the idea, and so she grabbed his arm and proceeded to drag him towards the Great Hall, Ron Weasley in tow, his mouth open and brain still back with the differences between no and what.

Harry's brain wasn't entirely there, but his feet kept on churning to keep up with Tracey as she continued to drag him towards what would at least be a very embarrassing experience and at worst would end with his marriage or death. Before he realized it, they had arrived at the great hall and he paused, eyes scanning the hall looking for any sign of Dumbledore or Daphne. The former he found at the head table exchanging conversation with Professor McGonagall. The later he couldn't find, although Draco's annoyingly bright hair was standing out like a sore thumb from the Slytherin table.

As Tracey continued to drag him forward, he could hear Ron catch up with them, and Hermione ran over from where she had been sitting at the Gryffindor table, and not so quietly demanded to know what was going on. Before she could get her answer, Tracey and Harry arrived at the head table and before every student, every teacher in the Great Hall, Tracey began her appeal.

"Professor Dumbledore, I need you to help my friend. She's in the Hospital wing because she was attacked in the common room by Draco, well, most of the house!" Her relative calm she had when she was asking Harry to do this in the dungeons was gone, and she began to talk faster and faster, until Harry was certain that only every fourth word was actually a word.

"Ms. Davis, please calm down and speak slowly." The Transfiguration professor pleaded, her head was dizzy trying to understand the fourth year girl. Tracey followed those instructions and after a deep breath to gather her courage, just came out and dropped the bomb.

"Please, move Daphne and Harry into the married quarter! She's not safe in the Slytherin dorms!" McGonagall was dumbstruck, while Dumbledore actually seemed to be caught off guard. He wasn't aware that Harry and Ms. Greengrass were married or engaged. Professor McGonagall recovered first.

"Ms. Davis, you can't just request that your friend be moved into married quarters against, Mr. Potter and Ms. Greengrass would both have to agree to that, and that's if they were married. To my knowledge Mr. Potter and Ms. Greengrass haven't ever spoken to each other, so I fail to see how they can be married."

"We're not!" Harry quickly interjected. But in a smaller voice added "But we are bonded and we have the same rights as married people."

McGonagall was shocked, Harry was fourteen, he couldn't be married, or engaged or whatever they were, he just couldn't be! Hermione was lost, seeing as Ron hadn't been able to complete a sentence, let alone fill her in on why Harry was being dragged in front of the Headmaster by Tracey Davis. Ron, well, after all he had witnessed today, his brain was about as useful as oatmeal. Less so, because oatmeal is good for you, but that's beside the point. Before Professor McGonagall could come up with something to say, Dumbledore took charge of the situation.

"Ms. Davis, I will go to the Infirmary to check on Ms. Greengrass and if what you say is true, then something will be done to rectify this situation. Mr. Potter, if what you say is true than I would very much like you to accompany me and we can discuss your options. It would help your claims if you had some kind of proof." The old wizard stood up and walked out of the Great Hall with Tracey quickly following after him. Harry, Hermione and Ron just remained standing there, along with McGonagall, no one was entirely sure of what had just transpired. Hermione kept on looking between Harry and the professor, hoping someone would have an answer to her still unanswered question. Ron...oatmeal, still, and Harry was arguing with himself. He could still back out of this, recant what he said, or just decide that he didn't want to move to the married quarter, he still couldn't believe they had those, he though Tracey might be pulling his chain, but the way Dumbledore didn't start laughing at the idea, they might be real.

Realizing that the Headmaster had wanted him to join him in the Hospital wing, he turned to head that way when he recalled what the Headmaster had said about proof. The list of rights as well as Harry's copy of the vault contracts were still in his trunk by his bead. They were stuffed in the bottom, but they were there. Deciding he would grab those, he made a quick detour before heading to the infirmary. Tracey was waiting, rather impatiently if her pacing was any indication, just outside the door and she nodded her head appreciatively as Harry passed her. Inside, Harry saw Dumbledore speaking with Madame Pomfrey, while Daphne lay (ironically) in the bed that Harry usually occupied by the end of the year. Dumbledore must have mentioned something because when she saw him enter the room she tried to stare a hole through his head with as much venom as she could muster.

Harry quickly realized he didn't want to be on the receiving end of that glare any time soon and thought maybe he was being a bit rash in his decision. He was glad to see that Daphne appeared to be all healed up though.

"Harry, I thank you for coming." Dumbledore came over and said. "Ms. Greengrass has, rather grudgingly, confirmed your story about the bond, and her father has been sent for and should be coming soon. I want to be sure that you know what you're doing, according to Ms. Greengrass, you two are not married right now, but to move into the married quarter, you must obviously become so. This isn't something that should be entered into lightly."

Harry bowed his head and thought. The Headmaster was right, this was major, he was basically trading his own freedom to protect a girl he had no history with. Yes she was pretty, beautiful even, and yes there was this bond and maybe this was part of that, but since he had seen her on the steps, Harry had felt very protective of Daphne. Could he give up his freedom for her safety? Would she even be willing? From what little interaction they had, he knew she was stubborn. Was Malfoy bad enough that she would even agree to this? Sure he was a ponce, and liked to throw his father's weight around, and only seemed to have power because of his money, but was he bad enough that Daphne would give up freedom, give up her free will to choose her husband, just to stay safe? Malfoy was just a bully right? He wasn't bad enough that she would agree to this preposterous idea, would she?

But then, in the midst of all these questions, Harry had a revelation. It didn't matter weather she accepted or not. Weather they got married or engaged or bonded or not. Could he, in good conscious, allow Draco Malfoy to injure someone and not try and stop it? Not try and make things better? He raised his head.

"Sir, I know this is a major event, and I don't believe that if she accepts this offer it's because she loves me. But I have to give her the choice, she is more than free to tell me to shove it, and a large part of me hopes she does, but I would rather offer and be shot down than not offer and return her to a situation where she isn't wanted."

Dumbledore gazed into Harry's face. His jaw was set, his eyes determined and focused. This wasn't what either child wanted, but everything he knew about Harry said that the boy would damn himself a thousand times over before he allowed others to suffer when he could prevent it. He sighed deeply in regret. Harry was being forced to grow up far, far too quickly.

"Very well. We will wait for her father to arrive before we ask her. I have some questions for him and perhaps there is another option."

With that, the aged wizard returned to speak with Madame Pomfrey while everyone awaited the arrival of Mr. Greengrass. When the man did arrive, he first went to his daughter's bed and began a quiet conversation. The Headmaster joined them after a moment and judging by the sudden stiffness that Mr. Greengrass displayed, he had dropped the bomb. Harry Potter was willing to marry his daughter.

After some more hushed conversation, which Harry wasn't involved in other than he could kind of see around the hospital dividers, Mr. Greengrass came out and approached him.

"Mr. Potter, I had honestly hoped never to see you again."

Well that's a great way to start a conversation.

"Daphne and the Headmaster have told me what you have offered to do, and while I'm sure Tracey had the best intentions in mind when she told you that, it's okay if you don't want to go through with this."

"Thank you, sir, but even though I don't have to do this, I would feel better if I at least offered. I've never liked Malfoy and if he's picking on Daphne, hurting her, because of me, then I can't not offer to alleviate that."

"Well, at least you have that in common. Daphne hasn't liked Malfoy since she met him either. You'll have that in common, which is good, because for whatever reason, she's agreed to this." Paul stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose and choked back a sob. "Sorry, but someday when you have kids of your own, one day one of them will get engaged and I can only hope that it's not at this age. Realizing that you can't protect your little girl and she's not even a legal adult...it's...not a pleasant thought."

Harry didn't know what to say. His hope that Daphne would laugh in his face and tell him how dumb he was to worry about her. To tell him that Malfoy was just a worthless pile of dung and that she could handle herself...it just made Harry's protectiveness even more fierce. Whatever Malfoy had done, whatever he had said, or his cronies had said it was enough to frighten her into this. To pick forced marriage over a bully...could that even be considered a bully?

"I don't know what to say, sir." Harry said. "I've only ever dreamed of the day when I would get married and have a family but here I am. I can't promise that this will work out, but I can promise that I'll make sure that whatever happened to cause this situation...it will never happen again!" He sounded a lot more confident than he felt.

"Harry, call me a selfish man, but I just want my little girl to be happy. Obviously she doesn't feel safe or happy where she is, so I hope this will rectify that. I can't promise that one day the two of you will fall madly in love, though I hope that you will spend the time to talk and get to know each other, but until then, even if all I can do if offer you advice when you ask for it, that's the role I will fill."

* * *

Later that afternoon, Daphne was released from the infirmary and she and Harry were lead to their new quarters. It was almost equidistant from both the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses. Harry had spent the remainder of the day talking with Mr. Greengrass and the Headmaster about these arrangements while Daphne had mostly remained silent. Through a bit of legal maneuvering it was determined that Harry and Daphne could occupy the married quarters while only engaged, but that was only a temporary fix. At the end of the year, Daphne and her family would look at transferring to another school if Daphne was still being threatened in school. Then Harry could break the engagement without any penalty and both would be free again. But if Daphne wanted to return or if the two actually developed feelings for each other, they would be married in the second week of Summer holiday.

Their rooms were hidden behind a landscape portrait of the Black Lake and were shocked by the size of their quarters. They each had their own rooms, at least until they were actually married, along with a common sitting room complete with fireplace as well as their own bathroom to share. There was even a little kitchen area where they could do some limited cooking if they so wished. Dumbledore had told them that the house elves (who had moved their possessions in during the day) would be more than happy to provide them with food if they asked and the Great Hall was always available to them.

Harry was not looking forward to the questions that would inevitably come in the morning from his friends and house mates but he was too tired to think about it today. The newly engaged duo stopped in the middle of their new living room and paused. Neither knew what to say. What could one say? 'Sorry for getting engaged to you?'

"I'm going to sleep Potter. I guess I'll be seeing you in the morning." Daphne said in a tired tone of voice. Now Harry could have simply said something along the lines of 'good night' and gotten away with it. But he felt there was something he just had to get off his chest.

"Listen, Gr- ...Daphne, this...I know you probably wouldn't have chosen this if you felt you had another choice. I want you to know that I didn't do this out of pity, I did this because I couldn't stand by and see you hurt because Malfoy hates me. Whatever he did to you, it's not going to happen again and-" Daphne cut him off.

"Look, Potter...Harry. I'm not in the mood for this right now. For now, let's come to an understanding. Right now, we don't know each other, we don't like each other." She licked her pink lips and closed her blue eyes in exhaustion. "Let's make another deal. That we'll both put our all into...whatever this is between us. We do that and at the end what happens, happens. I owe you a thank you for doing this, but neither of us are ready for the lovey-dovey-feely crap. Not now, definitely not tonight."

"No, your right." Harry paused. "Not tonight."

Daphne nodded and turned to go to her room.

"But one night, one day I hope you can confide in me. Maybe never as a fiancée, never as a husband, but at least as a friend."

She stopped and listened. She didn't turn around, couldn't. She just stood there and listened to Harry's speech.

"Whenever you are ready to talk, or want to talk. I'll be here and you can believe that I will do whatever I can to help you."

Now it was Harry's turn to turn and go into his room. He was inside and closing the door when he heard Daphne's hushed reply. She hadn't moved from the spot in the living room.

"Thanks. Harry."

When she got into her room she finally broke down. The events of the day were finally allowed to be purged from her being. Draco was an ass, she didn't know how, but he knew about the bond. She could live with that. So he and his followers had attacked her today, making fun of the fact that she was connected with the schools second champion. That 'Harry Bloody Potter' antithesis of everything they believed in, enemy in all they did, was the man she was connected to most closely.

Daphne wasn't afraid of Malfoy. He was all puff and no substance. What worried her was some of the older students. She could defend herself well enough against students her own age, but some of the older students were death eaters in all but name, and for a Slytherin to be associated with Potter...they were dangerous and unpredictable. Professor Snape would help when he could, but with all the trouble Slytherins got into with other houses, he had no time for fights within his own house, so long as no one was seriously injured or killed.

But it was Potter, Harry now, that was why she was crying. Typical Gryffindor, he had thrown himself between her and her problems and had offered her a way out of the strife that was brewing in her house. Not only was he selfless, he was brave and just the exact opposite of the boys she had known in Slytherin. Not having a brother, her father was her only male role model, and she loved her father. While Astoria took after their mother, Daphne was her Father's daughter and Harry was the first male to treat her half as well as her own father. She would fall asleep still in her robes but on a comfortable bed and without the worry of reprisal overnight for the first time since Halloween.

In his own room Harry Potter wondered what he was getting himself into, but finding himself more intrigued by the challenge than scared by the unknown. The future held so much that he didn't know and couldn't conceive of, but he would face them just as he had faced the events of today.


	2. Chapter 2

The differentiations that a civilization makes between those who are adults and those that are not can tell you much about their culture. We modern humans tend to think that any people who require their young to fight in battle to prove their worthiness, or to kill an animal, as primitive. Those primitive people tend to think of us modern humans as witches.

Witches (and wizards), interestingly enough, try not to think about other civilizations because it is a constant reminder that they are not alone in the world.

Harry was raised with the belief that at eighteen, a boy legally became a man. When he entered Hogwarts his understanding had to be reconfigured to accept that seventeen year olds were treated as equals to octogenarians. But now that he was older he had come up with his own scale. A child was someone who would delay something that was painful, indefinitely, despite the threat that ignoring whatever it was, could make it worse. A child would rather leave a bandage on a scabbed knee than tear it off, despite the threat of infection. A child will blatantly ignore the broken lamp in the living room while their parents are gone, in the often vain hopes that it will magically fix itself. (Magical children tend to do this far more often then their non magical brethren, despite the fact that they actually have a worse track record with the whole 'magically fixed' part. Think about that!) Given the choice, children will delay getting immunizations, against doctors orders, parents orders, and their own knowledge that a pin prick know will hurt a lot less than the mumps later on.

Adults, to Harry, acknowledge that things can be painful but that it is better in the long run to address them now and save suffering later on down the road. Not only will the adult rip off the bandage, he or she is only slightly likely to whimper in pain. A grown up will address the situation of the broken lamp right away, either by hiding all evidence or trying to fix it, but address it quickly none the less.

An adult is just as likely to avoid the injection because, come on, no one likes needles.

Having to explain his current relationship with Daphne was not something that Harry wanted to do this morning, but given that he knew it would be better to do it now (as well as the fact that he was up to date on all his immunizations and couldn't fake illness) he resolved himself to get up early and be in the Gryffindor common room early enough to greet his friends and attempt to smooth out any wrinkles that may have developed yesterday.

Getting up and gathering some clean clothes for the day, Harry groggily made his way towards the sole shower that was in his new quarters and opened the door. Only then remembering that he shared this bathroom with Daphne, did Harry look around and let out a relived sigh. He hadn't walked in on her while she was showering, which was a relief. They may have been engaged but Harry thought it bad form to see her naked before he had gotten her to laugh.

Twenty minutes later he was quietly slipping out the door and heading towards his former residence. By the time he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, the first hints of the sun were beginning to peak above the horizon, but you could only see them if you looked through a small gap in the Forbidden Forrest. Harry knew from experience that the Fat Lady would sleep until the first Gryffindor of the day left the tower and headed out into the castle. She was still snoring quietly when Harry arrived, and it wasn't until he practically shouted the password in her ear that she swung open, though weather she woke up Harry wasn't sure. (He could have sworn he heard snoring as the portrait closed behind him.)

Immediately he noticed that Hermione had fallen asleep on a chair in the common room, probably waiting up for him, though there was a fifty/fifty chance that she had been reading ahead in Charms, as her book lay face down on the floor in front of her.

"Hermione. Wake up. Hermione!" Harry gently shook his friends shoulder and slowly her brown eyes opened and blinked away the sleep that had been comforting her just a moment ago.

"Harry!" Her cry was a solid Augrey on a scale of one to Mandrake. (Mrs. Weasley was known to average a Jarvey, but could easily match a Chinese Fireball or Thestral if provoked enough.) "I was so worried, you left and Professor McGonagall wouldn't tell us anything and neither would the Headmaster! I even asked Snape if he knew anything and he refused to say anything either!" She was working herself into a frenzy, and Harry understood that to get a word in, he would have to risk her ire and interrupt her ramblings.

"Hermione! I'm fine, and I know I owe you an explanation, but I really only want to do it once and I was kind of hoping to explain it to you and Ron at the same time."

"You're speaking to him?" She asked, a bit surprised. "That's great, Harry, I knew something like this couldn't keep you two apart for long!" Though her smile was brilliant, Harry couldn't help but worry that Daphne might become the new thing keeping the two friends apart, instead of the tournament.

"Do you want to go get him out of bed or should I?" Hermione asked standing up and stretching out her arm in an effort to return blood circulation to her sleeping limb. Harry just chuckled.

"It's Friday, Hermione."

The second Gryffindor just furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "And?"

"_And_, that means it's omelet day. Have you ever known Ron to miss a chance for omelets?"

As if that was the incantation to summon Ron Weasley, the red head appeared on the steps and paused when he saw his two friends. He really wanted to find out what Harry was up to, and he wanted to conclude his apology from yesterday, but he also wanted omelets. Ron froze, not knowing what to say so that he could get his information, forgiveness and omelets all at once.

"Come on Ron." Harry spoke, waving his arm in a welcoming motion. "Let's go get some food, and then I owe you guys an explanation."

* * *

Since it was so early in the morning, the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall was empty when the trio arrived. Ron immediately dug into the food, the aforementioned omelets being his primary focus of attack, while Hermione took a token piece of toast and waited for Harry to begin his explanation.

"It was last summer, when I was staying in Diagon Alley." He began. "I got a letter from Gringotts asking me to attend a meeting, which I though was about my account balance, but instead it was with Daphne and her Dad. She had done some accidental magic, and somehow we became bonded."

"Bonded how? What does that mean?" Hermione asked.

"No one knows." Harry answered, pushing a bit of his own omelet around his plate. "We weren't married, not engaged, we didn't seem to have any new powers or feelings towards each other. It was like we were lab partners, but with legal rights like a married couple." He stopped to have a drink of orange juice and gather his thoughts.

"We agreed that we would ignore our situation, since at the time it didn't seem to affect us at all."

"So what happened yesterday?" Hermione pressed on. Ron continued to eat, but began to pay a bit more attention to the conversation, since he was, for the moment, out of omelet. At that thought, another appeared on his plate and he continued his destruction of the king of breakfast food stuffs.

"I don't know entirely." Harry began, his eyes still locked on his plate. "Malfoy seemed really pleased yesterday during potions, but he didn't do anything to me, which was weird. I was late cleaning up my stuff, so when I left most of the Slytherins had dropped their things in their dorms and were heading towards the hall for lunch. Malfoy passed me as Ron started...what were you going to say Ron?"

Now, wizard culture, being populated entirely by people with the ability to change the shape, nature, or composition of almost anything in the known world with just a word, tried their best to be careful with any sound that came out of their mouthes. This makes Ron's response both funny and disgusting.

"Toast, gurgle, egg, bit of ham -ologize!"

Though he received low marks for delivery, Harry understood the sentiment and nodded.

"Anyway," the raven haired boy continued. "Malfoy passed us and seemed even more pleased than in class, which worried me, but I tried to ignore it. A minute later, Daphne and Tracey Davis came storming our way and arguing. They got half way up the stairs when Daphne turned towards us and I saw that she had a black eye."

Hermione gasped while Ron ate.

"She ran to the Hospital wing and left Tracey in the stair well. Then Tracey came to talk to me, to convince me that Daphne wasn't safe in their own dorm anymore."

"What did she want you to do?" Hermione interjected.

"If Daphne and I acknowledged our 'bond' then we might be able to move into the quarters reserved for married or engaged students." Harry's response evoked surprise in both his friends,. Hermione vocally, and Ron...

"Eggs, juice, spit!"

"Married?" The smartest witch of their year yelped. "Oh Harry! Don't tell me you agreed to that!"

"Yeah, what would you want to be married to a snake for?" Ron asked, his mouth blissfully clear of food for once. "Though," he added, raising his hand to his chin in a pose reminiscent of a famous sculpture. "She is pretty hot, I guess I could overlook her being a snake...is she a good cook?"

Besides being terribly rude and insulting, Ron's comments had the fringe benefit of transferring Hermione's anger and shock from Harry to the youngest Weasley male.

"How could you say such a thing!" She yelled, turning and facing Ron. "That's a terribly rude thing to say, not to mention now, I'm more mad at you than Harry!"

Loathe as Harry was to speak up and risk bringing Hermione's ire back to him, he felt it was about time to wrap this up.

"Look, she was being attacked in her own dorms! Our house is our family while we here, remember? McGonagall told us that before our sorting! Daphne was being attacked by her family! I couldn't live with myself if I could help her. Even though we both would rather have ignored this, or made it so this never happened in the first place, she agreed to my proposal and so we can both live in the engaged quarters."

While Hermione's attention swung back to Harry, her temper stayed on Ron. Her eyes began to water at how selfless Harry was being. But that was Harry, fight a troll, sure. How about a giant snake that can kill you with it's eyes? Done. Harry would do anything for anyone, despite his own well being or wishes. She both wondered where she could find someone who was as selfless as Harry, but at the same time wondering what had caused Harry to constantly put others before himself.

"I'd appreciate it if you two didn't say anything yet. Daphne and I haven't spoken about anything yet, and I think we'll just let things go for as long as we can." Harry swallowed the last of his juice in one gulp and stood up. "I need to get my books before class starts."

Harry left his friends in shock as he left. Both knew that Harry was the type to do rash things, but this seemed... almost like it was personal to him. And when Harry took things personally, he threw himself completely into it. Hermione gave a soft, sad smile. If there was any humanity in Daphne Greengrass, Harry would find it. He could melt the 'Ice Queen's' heart, if only she would give him the chance.

* * *

A week passed. Harry and Daphne continued their cohabitation, living much more like neighbors than a couple to be married or even boyfriend and girlfriend. Harry had, in this time, discovered a couple of things about his fiancée, but the most intriguing involved that nickname of hers.

'Ice Queen.' Obviously it came from Daphne's frigid disposition towards almost everyone she came into contact with, except that, the more Harry payed attention to the blond, the more he began to poke holes in that idea. Yes, she was cold and distant and often times rude to others, but only in the company of her former house mates. If she were just in the room with Harry she would be silent, but it seemed to be more due to nerves and shyness than anything else. And if she were talking with Tracey (who he had found in their sitting room after returning from Care of Magical Creatures one day) or her sister, Astoria (A second year Ravenclaw who's first act upon being introduced to Harry had been to punch his arm as hard as possible) she was quite pleasant. Not bubbly or hyper, but she seemed normal. She would huff in anger when she became frustrated, she laughed when something funny struck her and would smile at the way Ron was following Harry around.

Harry had even heard from Hermione (who had Ancient Runes with Daphne) that in that class, she was just as normal as when she was around friends. The tipping point seemed to be around Slytherins, especially Malfoy or any of the older students. She would shut herself off and become as caring as a rock when they had classes with the Slytherins.

While their report with each other was improving (they were now greeting each other and wishing the other good day each morning) they was still this great separation between them. Not for a lack of trying though. The first weekend of their union, both Harry and Daphne made an honest attempt to spend it around each other. They stayed in the living room of their quarters, mostly doing homework, but also engaging in easy, albeit awkward, conversation. Their topics rarely got away from school, but it was a start. Daphne learned of Harry's dislike of divination and his anger at how Snape would treat him. How flying was more than just a sport to Harry, it was something relaxing, like a hot bath or a nap.

Harry learned that Daphne didn't much care for potions either, though she had a much greater respect for the subject than he did, and that she really loved history. At first, Harry was wondering if they were attending the same class. History of Magic? Taught by a ghost who had died and didn't realize it? Always droned on about goblin rebellions and such? That history?

It became quickly apparent that Daphne had a different point of view when it came to magical culture than Harry did. Where he saw magic as a way to do things easier, Daphne viewed magic as...he wouldn't say the _**only**_ way to do things, but the primary way. Given the choice, she would use a cleaning charm to wash the dishes, rather than do them by hand, but if she had to, she could make a plate sparkle.

"Dad always believed that you had to know how something was done properly before you could use magic to replicate it." She had explained.

To Harry, goblin rebellions, the formation of the International Confederation of Wizards...the hiding of the Hairy MacBoons, these were facts to memorize. But to Daphne they were events to be analyzed.

"Your decisions today are made by your experiences in the past and will impact your future." She had explained.

It had been an odd week.

Today the students were allowed to travel to Hogsmeade, and Harry was looking forward to a small break. Hermione had been helping him prepare for the first task and although he was learning new spells, he wanted to forget the stupid tournament for a moment and relax.

He had slept in, which meant that by the time he was ready to go meet Hermione and Ron, (who had been helping Harry test spells, mostly as a target) Daphne, who enjoyed early morning about as much as a vampire, was up and gathering her own cloak for the trip into town.

"Plans for today?" She asked. While they still weren't discussing anything more interesting than the answers for Charms homework, they had now added wishing each other good night at the end of the day to their repertoire of conversation.

"Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione." He replied, stifling a yawn mid-sentence. Daphne nodded.

"I'm meeting Tracey for lunch, but I'll only be in town until about one. I've got an assignment for Runes that needs to be finished by Monday." For a moment the two teens just stared at each other, allowing the silence between them to expand and fill the room.

"Well...I guess I'll see you tonight then." Harry supplied. Daphne nodded again and exited.

* * *

Daphne was sitting in her...their, living room, trying to translate a group of runes. Runes were widely used in warding, which she didn't really have any interest in, but since ancient wizards tended to ward particularly important things, such as valuables, and properties, she would need a good understanding of them if she wanted to go into...say archeology. She loved history, the stories of battles long since fought, the way people had risen up to grab rights that should be theirs. How the prevailing ideas of the times changed with new understanding.

Neither Archeology nor history were really fields that you went into expecting to make a lot of gold in. Nor did you go in thinking of glory and fame. Actually, not too many people went into them in the first place. But Daphne did. The Greengrass family, while being pure-bloods, were different than their contemporaries. They didn't go into traditional jobs that pure bloods held, nor did they flaunt their wealth. She was raised in a loving home with a nurturing environment. It hurt her so much to be so far away from them right now. While getting to see her father for that short time was a help, and Astoria was never too far away, she really could have used to speak to her mother more directly than in owl post. Daphne's mother, Maggie, was a Keeper for the Holyhead Harpies and was in mid season, so she had very limited time between practices, matches and other team events.

Although her mom had promised to meet over the winter break, lasting until then would be the toughest thing that Daphne had ever done. Maybe she could ask Harry to lend her some of his bravery, he certainly had enough to go around if the rumors were true. Her thoughts were interrupted by Harry storming back into the room. He seemed pretty upset for what was supposed to be a relaxing day.

"You look like someone just told you that Christmas wasn't coming." Harry jumped at her voice. Though they both liked to do work in the common area, he had gotten it in his head that she would be in the library today.

"Sorry." He muttered before he ran his hands through his hair. It was a nervous habit of his and a dead give away that something was bothering him.

"Want to tell me what's got you so upset?" Daphne's question was timid and soft. It was the first time she had offered herself as a sounding board and the first time Harry could remember her sounding worried.

"Hogsmeade was a bust." Ah, teenage boy logic. The shorter and less descriptive something is, the more boring it is. Harry was hoping that Daphne would just let it go. Sadly for him, the shorter and less descriptive something is, all the more interesting it is to the teenage girl.

"And? Care to expand on that Shakespeare?" Though Harry was caught off guard by her jab, the smile on her face showed that it was in jest. In spite of himself, Harry found himself captivated by her smile. Not an open mouth smile, not a fake one that you need to use during picture day, but a genuine grin that brought life to her eyes and made his stomach flutter involuntarily.

"I just wanted a day off from this annoying tournament, to enjoy the day and clear my head a little."

"But..." Daphne prompted from her seat in what had become 'her' chair.

"Ron and Hermione. Well, mostly Ron, but I just couldn't stand it and came back here. I needed to be away from them for a bit is all."

Daphne figured she knew what Ron had done, the boy had almost zero ability to act properly in a social environment. How Granger had angered Harry was a bit tougher, but you could put all your money on something she said and be right more often than not.

"It started when Hagrid and Professor Moody interrupted our lunch. Hagrid said he's got something to show me tonight, and odds are that it has to do with the first task. Which made Hermione think that we shouldn't have taken the day off in the first place and wanted me to come back and continue to work on spells."

Though it hadn't come up in their (limited) conversations, Daphne knew that Harry was worried about this first task and growing increasingly sick of the constant preparing that his friends were making him do.

"So then I decided to just come back here and hide out for the day, but Ron decided he was going to follow me. Hermione tried to stop him and he started to yell at her, about how she didn't always know what's best for me."

Now the picture emerged. By saying that Hermione didn't always know what was best, Ron had implied that he did. Poor logic aside, it was the way that Ron had delivered that insult to Granger that had Harry mad. While Harry was more than willing to forgive Ron for their row the previous week, if Weasley continued to insult Harry's friends, then all bets were off.

"Are you going to go see whatever it is that Hagrid wants to show you?" If Harry didn't want to think about the tournament than he might not take the grounds keeper up on his offer.

"I guess. I told him I will, so really I've got no choice."

As seemed to happen more and more often, a silence hung between them, seeming to signal the end to their conversation. But this time, instead of Harry having the last word and offering a sign of support, it was Daphne.

"Look, when you find out what the task is, if you ever want a different point of view on it...well, you know where to find me."So what if the ending was pretty lame. Harry gave her a nod and a small smile in gratitude.

* * *

That night, Harry made it back to his quarters on autopilot. Dragons! If this was the newer, safer Triwizard Tournament, than he would've hated to see the old ones! What did they have to do? Pet Nundu? Arm wrestle a troll? Oh god! He hoped one of the other tasks wouldn't involve arm wrestling a troll! He slumped down on the small couch that rested in front of their own personal fireplace, which was a good thing, because he had totally forgotten that Sirius was to contact him that night for a talk.

At least he had forgotten until Sirius's head appeared in the fireplace and hissed to get his attention. In hushed tones they discussed dragons and Harry's current living arrangements. Sirius was able to give Harry a little bit of information, that Paul was older than Sirius or Harry's parents, he was a fourth year when they were just staring Hogwarts, and that he had not been accused of being a death-eater. He promised to get some more info and pass it on, but mostly they ended up discussing Harry and Daphne. While Sirius couldn't exactly be called 'supportive' of what Harry had done, he did agree that Harry would feel much worse if Daphne had returned to the Slytherins and been injured.

Rather suddenly, Sirius's head disappeared and Harry had only a second to look up and see Daphne, clad in a large long sleeved shirt and cotton pants sleepily open the door.

"Oh. Sorry, didn't think you'd still be up." She said, a bit surprised at seeing him. "I just wanted a glass of water."

"Ok. I was...er, just going to sleep, actually." He turned around and headed to his door but Daphne had another question.

"What did Hagrid show you?" Harry paused, would she be upset at the truth or might she relish in the thought of him getting eaten by a dragon? She hadn't shown any signs that she wanted him dead, granted there weren't any signs that she wanted him alive and living with her either, but she definitely hadn't tried to curse him in his sleep.

"Dragons." He stated simply. Daphne, who was filling her cup with water, was so shocked that she didn't say anything and couldn't even form a sentence. She stood their, staring at Harry, who was staring back and the first thought to cross her mind was: 'Cold Water!' Quickly dumping out some water from her overflowing cup, she grabbed for a towel to dry her hand. She needed to say something. Something that showed how serious she was taking this...no wait, something funny to lighten the mood! That was it, something that might take Harry's mind off his scaly problem.

"Well, if all else fails you could just fly away. I hear southern Spain is nice this time of year."

And with that, the most miraculous thing happened. Harry laughed. Not a chuckle, not a 'ha ha', but a full fledged laugh. It was kind of odd and yet at the same time, it felt nice to make him laugh.

"I certainly could use a vacation, what with everything that's happened in the past couple of weeks. Tell you what, if you can get us a two person broom I'd be happy to get away from here."

This was something that Harry wasn't all that used to, fighting danger and fear with laughter and jokes. Oh sure, Ron might have tried to crack a joke, but mostly he would worry and whimper. Hermione would throw herself into books, into whatever might be able to teach her how to tame a dragon.

They wished each other good night and retreated to their rooms. It wasn't until Harry was laying in bed, with his eyes closed that an idea struck him. Fly away indeed!

* * *

The fact that Harry and Daphne were living apart from their houses in quarters designed for engaged couples wasn't a secret. It just so happened that as they drew closer and closer to the first task, no one seemed to care about their relationship and instead focused on Harry and how he would fare in the task. By the day of the task, all attention was focused on the champions. Ludo Bagman had just announced that each champion would have to pass a dragon and retrieve a golden egg. When the first creature was brought into the arena, gasps were echoing around like popcorn. Though Harry was the one facing the dragon, Daphne hadn't eaten more than a bite of food at breakfast herself. She had tried her best not to speak of, think about or even ruminate on the task. She was doing very well until Hermione Granger sat down next to her in the stands. Throughout Cedric Diggory's attempt at getting his egg, neither woman said anything. When he successfully retrieved his prize (at serious injury to himself) both Slytherin and Gryffindor applauded with the rest of the crowd. While the first dragon was swapped out for a second, equally deadly looking beast, Hermione broke the tense silence between the two witches.

"I suppose Harry and I owe you a thanks for what you did for him." Now, ever since their late night laugh session, neither Harry or Daphne had done much except school (or tournament) work. So Daphne, whose mind was already occupied, didn't understand the muggle born witches statement at first and let it be know in the most eloquent way know to her.

"What?"

By now, Fleur Delacour was facing down her dragon. She was trying to hypnotize it, or put it to sleep by singing, one of the two. Both Hermione and Daphne had been interested in seeing how the other champions would handle the task and so Hermione didn't answer Daphne until the quarter veela was done, having retrieved her egg with little fuss.

"Oh, you said something about flying away, and Harry had the brilliant idea to -"

"WHAT! It was a joke!" Daphne was trying not to show worry. How could he turn a joke about running away into a strategy for defeating a dragon?

"Well, it's a good idea actually. Professor Moody even suggested the same thing, actually. See, all he has to do is-"

Daphne just gave up listening. Harry Potter would die, facing a dragon, and all because she made a joke. Thoughts like that kept on running through her head, over and over. There was no way he should be in this tournament in the first place and he was basing his strategy on a joke! Oh god, what had she done? She never noticed Viktor Krum get his egg. A bit destructive, but fastest so far.

Only when Bagman announced Harry's name did Daphne's eyes catch up with her brain. She wished it hadn't. There stood a Hungarian Horntail, one of, if not the most, dangerous dragons in the world against a fourth year whose strategy was a bad joke! She found herself muttering under her breath.

"Come on Harry. Get through this. You have to!"

But she wasn't the only one. Whatever Hermione knew regarding the dragons, she must never have seen a Hungarian Horntail. As Harry raised his wand and yelled the incantation to summon his broom both girls kept quietly cheering Harry on. Their words were lost in the din of the crowd, who cheered harder and louder with each swoop and climb that Harry made. Never before had a Slytherin wished for a Gryffindor to fly better, but Daphne did. She wished for him to make it through this ordeal, to come out whole to be there for her.

But only because she didn't want to feel guilty over his death. That's all.

And against all odds, Harry made one final dive, flattened himself against his broom handle and reached out as far as he could. The moment his fingers gripped that egg, the exact moment, Daphne and Hermione let out sighs of relief. Then they joined what seemed like the rest of the world in cheering their lungs out! Harry had done it, better and faster than any other champion in the tournament.

While Hermione was running towards Harry to congratulate him, Daphne held back. She was glad that Harry was safe. Maybe more than glad. But she needed some time to gather herself. IF she was beginning to feel things for Harry what were those feelings. Did she love him? No. Like him...maybe. Was he nice to have around, yes. Would she miss him? Not yet. Everything was confusing for her.

So instead of heading to Harry, who was being smothered by Hermione and congratulated by Ron, she headed back to her room. With the party that Gryffindor was no doubt planning, Harry wouldn't be back anytime today.

* * *

For the rest of the day Harry was congratulated and hugged and smacked on the back in praise. Gryffindors were celebrating like they had won the Quidditch cup, house cup and Snape had just been sacked all at once! Fred and George snuck into Hogsmeade to get sweets and drinks, while there was food aplenty for anyone who wanted it. And Harry was in the thick of it, laughing eating, drinking right along with the rest of the house. McGonagall had to come up threaten detention with Filch, twice, before anyone took her seriously.

Throughout the food and drink, the congratulations and applause, Harry had, in the back of his mind, wanted very much to thank Daphne for her suggestion. Especially after Hermione told her how his fiancée had reacted when she learned of his strategy. He felt like he owed her an apology. And as he made his way back to his quarters, under the watchful eyes of his head of house, he resolved to make up for any worry he caused her.

It was almost eleven when Harry returned after wishing the rather annoyed (but simultaneously proud) transfiguration professor, a good night. He wasn't expecting Daphne to be up, but there she was sitting in her chair, a book on her lap. But unlike Hermione, her eyes showed that she couldn't care what was written on those pages. She was staring into space and didn't react when Harry entered.

"Knut for your thoughts?" He asked, taking off the Gryffindor flag that had been draped around his neck like a cape. Daphne must have really been out of it because she jumped at his voice. Instead of the easy, polite relationship they had exhibited these past couple of weeks, her response was terse.

"You frightened me!" It was both accusation and verdict. Harry might have been an emotionally immature boy, but even he realized that she wasn't pleased with him.

"I'm sorry." He replied, hoping to calm his roommate down. His quickness in apologizing must have caught Daphne off guard because her anger fell and she seemed to return to her normal self.

"Yes, well. It is rather late, I guess we should be heading to bed now."

Harry didn't want to miss his opportunity to clear the air between them, not while the ideas and feelings were still fresh.

"Thanks, but I meant for earlier. Hermione told me you kind of went catatonic when she told you my strategy. I certainly didn't mean to worry you, but I also didn't know you cared enough to worry."

Curses! How was she supposed to remain angry at him when he kept on doing all the right things?

"I suppose I can't blame you for not telling me your plan. I hadn't expressed any interest in it, I just figured you'd do like Krum and fire spells until something hit." She explained and smiled. It was easy to be herself around Harry, easy to be mad when the occasion called for it, or laugh when she wanted. She wouldn't cry, but that was more out of pride than anything else. She had the feeling that if she wanted to cry, Harry would be perfectly kind and offer his shoulder to lean upon, or his sleeve to wipe her nose on.

* * *

"I owe you a thank you...for the idea." Harry added, happy to see her smile return.

"Well, next Hogsmeade trip you owe me lunch." She responded, chuckling at the idea of Potter and her going out for lunch. On a date. That would be the day.

Daphne really needed to learn not to tempt fate. While she laughed at her own joke, she noticed that Harry wasn't laughing. Or chuckling. Or even a pity laugh. In fact he looked a bit guilty...and nervous. Nervous?

"How's Christmas Day? McGonagall says that there's going to be a Yule ball and it's tradition that the Champions and their dates open the dance. She kind of told me that you would be my date."

Back in her quarters, Minerva McGonagall heard the scream Daphne released.

"WHAT?"

Thankfully the engaged quarters weren't part of her jurisdiction and she was able to fall asleep with a calm mind. Harry would just have to survive the night on his own.

* * *

**A/N: Wow! I can't believe how positive the response has been to this story. I owe everyone who reviewed or subscribed to this story a great big thank you. If you have any suggestions or ways for me to improve I would be happy to hear them. People have already pointed out that my grammar is not the best. I will try and improve on that, honest, but if I fail, please know that I am trying. **

**Just to give you an idea, I want to show, in this story, many of the elements that make Harry/Daphne stories so popular, but with a new twist. I don't want to change too many things, but as you can see from this chapter, I won't be following cannon strictly. **

**Thanks again for all your support.**


	3. Chapter 3

Men, it has been proven, would much rather go to war, have open heart surgery without pain killers, or face a Hungarian Horntail in one on one combat than confront an angry woman. Especially if that woman is your girlfriend, wife or fiancée. As with most unpleasant things, men had a number of ways to try and make this situation more palatable, most of which involved the giving of expensive gifts. This causes a problem, because the gifts, while being expensive, are not usually enough to make up for the emotional distress caused, and are often broken and their pieces scattered along the floor among a pile of used tissues. From this, there are a couple of valuable lessons to be learned. First off, the men need to learn that forgiveness, true forgiveness, cannot be bought. And secondly, the gifts lean that they do not like to be broken and make all attempts to avoid a similar fate in the future.

Harry and Daphne didn't speak to each other for almost two days after the first task. Harry, who knew that Daphne was mad and didn't wish to incur her wrath, gave her a wide berth, and Daphne, who was unhappy with Harry's delivery more so than the news, wanted to make it clear to her husband to be, that he would still have to work to make her happy. Minerva McGonagall, who told Harry about the ball before the rest of her Lion's, only wanted to avoid a situation where Harry forgot that he was engaged and asked someone else before Daphne. The image of Harry and Parvati Patil dancing, while Daphne slipped something into Harry's drink in retaliation would creep into the transfiguration professor's mind (and bring a grin to her face) whenever she saw Daphne or Harry ignoring the other.

While the pair were once more making small talk and discussing the weather by Tuesday morning, the closer the Yule Ball drew, the more the distance between Harry and Daphne felt insurmountable. And for some reason, this began to worry Hermione Granger and Tracey Davis. Within one week of the Yule Ball being announced, both girls had dates, were neck deep in schoolwork and yet, still had time to worry about the relationship between their best friends. Tracey, who's insistence and pleading had landed the two in this situation, felt that if she could get Daphne and Harry to have a good time at the ball, than the two might fall in love and alleviate some of her guilt. Hermione, though she sympathized with Harry, felt that he needed to make the best of the situation he had created. If he hadn't been willing to go through this, he shouldn't have offered to marry Daphne in the first place.

Independent of the other, Hermione and Tracey began to pester Harry and Daphne, respectively, to sit down and get to know the other better. At first, the resistance they were met with was substantial. Neither of the mildly happy couple really wanted to escalate the pace at which their relationship was glacially moving and while Hermione tried to reason with Harry, and Tracey tried to blackmail Daphne, nothing seemed to work. Yes, Harry didn't want to make a fool of himself when he danced with Daphne, but neither did he want to ask her to practice with him. And yes, Daphne didn't want Harry to know what she had been discussing with Tracey when she accidentally bound them, but it wouldn't convince her to sit down and talk with Harry. It was quickly coming to the point that Hermione and Tracey both thought that maybe the solution would be to lock the two in a closet. As it turns out, Tracey and Hermione were the thing that got a dialogue going between the engaged couple.

It was the Saturday after the first task and Daphne was getting pretty upset with Tracey's threats. Tracey was her best friend, had been since before first year, but these constant attempts at matchmaking was growing weary. She had shown up around noon, a ritual that the two Slytherin's had shared for some time now. Around lunch on Saturday, the two would usually head up to the library to do some (light) studying, but mostly to talk and gossip. Though in previous years, the Slytherin dorms had been a refuge from the rest of the school, ears were everywhere and if you wanted to have a private conversation, better to do it away from the Common room. Today, Daphne was just not in the mood for another round of 'what can I threaten you with?' from her friend. Tracey seemed to pick up on this quickly after she arrived, and decided to forgo their ritual in exchange for not being hexed. As she beat a hasty retreat, Daphne let out an exasperated puff of air.

Harry, who had been trying to finish up a potions assignment, looked up and saw the frustration written on Daphne's face. Hermione's attempts at pushing him towards Daphne were wearing on his nerves. So much so, that Ron's attempts at ignoring the fact that his best friend was engaged to a 'snake' was almost a relief. Daphne returned to her chair and fell into it. She wanted a moment to collect herself and just calm down.

"You're not fighting are you?" Harry asked. He had seen in her demeanor, that she needed to compose herself, and so he gave her a moment before asking his question. He was just now beginning to feel that she had forgiven him for the Yule Ball fiasco and didn't want to push his (notoriously bad) luck.

"We're not fighting!" Daphne replied sharply. She looked at her roommate and saw the effect her reply had on him. Harry hadn't raised his head from his book, but the way he kept his head firmly affixed to the same spot on the page indicated to Daphne that he was taking her frustration personally.

"Trace means well." She explained, using her nickname for Tracey, hoping that the informality of it would lessen some of the tension. "But she's been pushing and pushing for me...us to talk about things. I've been blowing her off, but she's just so stubborn!" To Daphne's relief and amazement, Harry gave a sort of half snort, half chuckle.

"I hear you. Hermione's been doing the same thing with me. She keeps on saying that we need to get along...you know, 'cause we're living together and all." Harry didn't want to give Daphne the idea that he was thinking past the present. Even facing the awkwardness of the Ball, the thoughts of a wedding, and the pomp and circumstance that came with it, kept on flashing in the back of his thoughts.

For a moment it seemed like that might be the end of their conversation. A quick back and forth about how their friends were pushing into a personal matter that didn't really concern them. But Harry, who had this question running through his head for a bit now, decided to buck up and just go for it.

"I, uh, I've been meaning to ask you...with Malfoy being after you and all...I know your sister isn't in Slytherin, but what about Tracey? Couldn't Malfoy use her to get to you?" This time it was Daphne who gave the half snort, half chuckle. Snuckle? Churck? Chort?

"They'd be pretty dumb to try." She gave a rather creepy smile at whatever was in her head, but seeing Harry's clueless expression decided to enlighten him. "Tracey's dad is a prosecutor for the Ministry. After what Malfoy pulled with me, I'd be surprised if he didn't make it clear what would happen if anyone tried a repeat performance."

"But with the way Malfoy goes on, his family has the gold to buy themselves out of any legal trouble they could get into."

"Oh, they do. But that's not the point. There's this saying that prosecutor's have, that they could indict a ham sandwich. You ever hear of that?" Harry thought that maybe he had, but decided to answer negatively just in case.

"Maybe, but I don't think so."

"It means that they could bring the Malfoy's to trial for just about anything." She explained. "And he would. Time after time after time."

Now Harry got the picture. Death by a thousand paper cuts, war of attrition, whatever you wanted to call it. Tracey's insurance policy was that if she were harmed, her father would keep who ever stepped out of line, and more importantly their money, tied up in court for the foreseeable future. Harry's smile at the thought matched his fiancées in mirth and he let out a deep laugh in appreciation.

"While we're on the subject, what do your parents do for a living? I've never asked and I don't really have an idea of what career opportunities are out there." Most of the adults he knew were teachers and the others were the Weasleys.

"Dad's an accountant and Mum's Keeper for the Harpies." Her answer was short, sweet, and not what Harry was expecting at all.

"Wow." He started. Here it came. The usual remark about how cool it must be to have a parent who was a professional Quidditch player. Daphne readied herself for it.

"I thought most pure blood families, only the husband worked. How did that work growing up? Do you have house elves, or did you have a nanny? Aunt Petunia always stayed at home to care for Dudley..."

Harry's questions, besides not being what she was prepared for, caught Daphne off guard because of his genuine intrigue. He had no idea about the family dynamic in the wizard world. Yes, very wealthy families like the Malfoys only had one source of income, and families like the Weasleys, who had children soon after graduating Hogwarts, often relied on one bread winner, but the majority of married couples both worked.

"No, in most couples, both work." Daphne explained, shaking her head. "We, my sister and I, had both a nanny and house elves to look after us, though when Mum was out of season, she would be with us all day." She paused, but decided to ask a question of her own. "What about you, with only your Uncle working? He must make a lot of money to be able to support your family."

"Well...yes and no." Harry replied. He leaned back further into his chair. "Uncle Vernon makes enough for him and Aunt Petunia and Dudley. But since they also have to take care of me, and as far as I can tell, they don't get any allowances for doing so, we have to be pretty careful." His cheeks grew red and his head bowed down as he continued. "I...er...maybe you noticed, when we were at Gringotts...my clothes weren't..."

"Very nice?" Daphne offered. "I didn't, you might remember I was a bit preoccupied with my shoe laces, but Dad...he mentioned something to Mom about it. Said you looked like you were swimming in your clothes." Harry snorted at the understatement. A man he may be, but as a budding adult, Harry was beginning to feel just a bit self conscious of how he looked. Daphne smiled at his response and playfully pushed further. "He also said they looked like they came from the nineteen eighties and that you should be checked for lice!"

At first Harry was appalled that Daphne would say something and his head jerked up in shock. But when he saw the broad grin on the blond's lips and how she was fighting to hold back her laughter, he realized that she had pulled a fast on one him.

"Oh, very funny!" He grinned at her. "Just for that I think I'll just wear a shower curtain to the Yule Ball." This was too much for Daphne and she broke out into a fit of laughter for several minutes. When she finally collected her self, she couldn't help herself and let fly another crack.

"I think you'd look very fetching, all we'd need to do is make sure it wouldn't fall down, use some pins or something, and teach you how to walk in heels. I think you'd look just lovely, Ms. Potter!" As a great joke is known to do, this killed any and all tension in the room and had both occupants roaring with laughter. As their amusement abated, Harry noticed, not for the first time, both how much more relaxed Daphne seemed in their quarters as opposed to class, and how pretty she was. While her personality would usually deter people from approaching her, much in the same way that Fleur's veela charm did not, Daphne was becoming a beautiful woman, her hair was golden blond, not bleached out, and when she would wear red, any kind of red, it made some highlights stand out. Her eyes were bright blue and could both freeze and welcome in a glance. As they were now, filled with laughter and mirth, they were warm and almost sparkled. Not unlike Dumbledore, really and it made him feel more comfortable around her. It was something he could definitely get used to.

Daphne was observing Harry as well. Physically he wasn't some kind of hulking Adonis, but he was not without his (very) high points in her mind. His eyes were without a doubt the most interesting thing about him, The deepest, most colorful green eyes she had ever seen, and while he could school his face into a neutral, hard to read look, his eyes must never have gotten the message because they remained more expressive and emotional than Daphne cared to admit. To someone like her, he was an open book, a very easy to sympathize with, book.

"I, uh, know that we haven't discussed the Yule Ball, but I feel like...shouldn't we discuss what we're wearing? To make sure we don't clash...and stuff?" Harry eased back into a topic that had only been breached once with disastrous results. To his great relief, Daphne was either still in a good mood or had moved on, because her answer was another joke.

"I suppose we'd better, because I have no idea what goes with a shower curtain!" She giggled. It took her a moment to realize that Harry was serious and that he was actually attempting to make the approaching dance into something other than a disaster.

"What were you going to wear?" She asked, intrigued.

"Mrs. Weasley got me these dress robes, they're green and I've got some black shoes that are nice."

"Green and black? Really? Well, I can work with that. I guess." Daphne mused. "Now, have you ever done any dancing?"

"No, but aren't you going to tell me what you're going to wear?" Harry asked, caught off guard by how fast Daphne had switched topics. His date just sighed...and smirked.

"Nah, I think you'll just have to wait and see like everyone else. As for the dancing...I've not had any formal instruction, so we'll just have to wing it, though a bit of practice wouldn't kill us."

After moving some of the furniture around, the two spent the remainder of the night trying to avoid stepping on toes, and in Daphne's case, seeing if all the blood Harry was using to blush might deprive his brain of air enough to actually kill him.

* * *

Christmas grew closer, Harry and Daphne grew closer, but the golden egg that Harry had retrieved as part of the first task remained quite mysterious. And since this was the final opportunity for students to visit the village of Hogsmeade and buy last minute holiday gifts, Harry wasn't even thinking about it. Sirius had contacted him after the first task and set up a meeting for today, which Harry was eager to attend and one which Hermione and Ron were happy to tag along on. The trio followed Snuffles up into the hills outside of the village and came across Buckbeak guarding a cave which had many old copies of the Daily Prophet strewn about it.

"I've been reading up on the tournament through the paper. Ministry really wants this to look good after all the bad press from last year." Sirius smirked. Having been the source of that bad press gave the old prankster a great sense of accomplishment. Harry hadn't read the paper regularly since Rita Skeeter's article after the wand ceremony, Ron didn't read the paper except for the Quidditch scores, and Hermione was usually too busy reading other books to give reports to Harry and Ron.

While Sirius was proud of Harry's performance, he was still weary, as he agreed with Moody and believed that Harry had been entered with less than pure intentions. The hope that Sirius might recognize the egg, or a description of the noise it produced when opened, was dashed as the escaped criminal couldn't help. He had mentioned, off handily, that it reminded him a door chime his mother had installed, not long before he had been sent away, as she had become deaf in one ear.

While he couldn't help on the tournament front, Sirius was also worried about Harry and his situation with Daphne Greengrass. Sirius felt as though he had failed as godfather. It should be his responsibility to screen potential girlfriends for Harry, and here the lad had skipped over that step completely and gone straight to fiancée. While his own knowledge of the Greengrass family was limited, Sirius had asked Remus to investigate and was asking everyone he could (witch was only Remus and the headmaster) for information and what he learned painted a picture that was a bit too fuzzy for the old marauder's liking and something just seemed off. He needed some more information, but he had a theory, and if he was right, than he could only hope that it wouldn't hurt Harry. Sirius had spent the last twelve years around criminals, and something about Paul Greengrass...

As he watched the trio walk back to town, waving good-bye over their shoulders, he hoped that he was wrong about the entire situation. He truly did.

* * *

Christmas dawned as one would expect when they were in Scotland. Cold, wet, snowy. Or as most called it, Sunday. For the first time since coming to Hogwarts, Harry wasn't awoken by Ron or any other Weasley. It was Hedwig who woke him, hooting and nipping lightly at his ear. Looking out his...well it was no longer a window...it was basically a whole, but thanks to the magic of warming charms, the bitter cold couldn't penetrate into Harry's room. While most of the building had closing windows, some of the less frequently used rooms, like this one, only had open sills. Sleepily he gathered the blanket from his bed and wrapped it around himself before heading into the common area. Even though the sun had risen over trees, and even though Daphne didn't appear to be up yet, there was a Greengrass sleeping in one of the cushy chairs.

Astoria, who shared almost nothing with her older sister besides a last name, had black hair and light brown eyes. She was snoring lightly and after their last confrontation (Harry's arm was bruised for a day afterward) he was not in much of a mood to wake her up. There was a tree set up in the corner (one of the perks of their living situation) and presents were piled underneath it. It seemed that Astoria had brought her own gifts with her, as there was a third pile at her feet. Harry, deciding he was more thirsty than hungry, went over and made to pour a glass of milk, then decided that hot chocolate would be more festive. Without needing to say anything, hot coco just appeared before him, though the rather loud popping noise this created woke Astoria. Seeing Harry, who had her back to her and was covering himself with the warm blanket, she threw the closest thing to her at him in surprise. It was her wand, so it wasn't like it hurt, but her scream brought Daphne out of her room, half away and wand in her hand. She had obviously been roused from bed, because her hair was still flat on one side from sleeping on it, she was still in her night clothes (long pajama pants and somewhat surprisingly, an old worn sweatshirt) and looked ready to kill. She did not like to be woken up early.

She put her wand away, but she turned towards her sister. "Astoria." Her voice was as cold as the outside. "Not. Before. Noon! How many times do I need to tell you that!"

Despite growing up with her, and being her sister, her younger sister, Astoria was no more used to Daphne being mad than Harry was. While the second year Ravenclaw tried to burrow into the chair she was occupying, Harry silently slunk back towards his room. Perhaps it was the spirit of the season or the fact that Daphne wasn't fully awake yet, but he was within a couple of steps of his room when he dared to think that he might just get away scott free. Oh what a poor idea. Daphne turned her bleary eyes to him and Harry froze. Maybe, like the T-Rex, her vision was based on movement. All he had to do was stay still and she'd ignore him. Keep railing Astoria...then, when she was distracted he'd make a break for it! But wait! She wasn't ignoring him! She was smiling and walking towards him! Oh, he was a dead man, this was it. Voldemort would be denied the pleasure of killing him, Daphne would!

Although, as far as last visions go, this wouldn't be the worst. Daphne, even having been forced from bed had a natural beauty about her. And her grin, while definitely...conspiratorial, didn't seem as evil as it had from across the room. In fact, it reminded of the look that Fred and/or George would have before a really good prank came to fruition. And when she reached up with her hands, not to strangle him, but to hug him, he knew this must be a prank.

"Thank you so very much, Harry!" She sweetly gushed. "I just love my gift!" The previous night, the two had exchanged one gift to the other, a Greengrass family tradition, according to Daphne. (Never mind the fact that Harry hadn't seen hide nor hair of Astoria prior to a minute ago.) Now, there was a tradition in the Greengrass family, and it even involved gift giving the night prior to Christmas. But what Daphne hadn't explained, and Harry didn't know, was that the gifts were supposed to be jokes. For example, her gift to Harry had been a black and white stripped shower curtain.

Harry's gift to Daphne had been an adorable black and white kitten. She had always wanted a cat, but ever since her sister had a rather unfortunate run in with a kneazle, they had been unofficially banned from her house.

Her stunned silence while she just held the baby cat and stared into it's eyes (which just so happened to match her own) was Harry's first clue that something was wrong. He had felt a bit strange giving her a kitten after receiving a shower curtain, but not having a back up plan, had gone with it anyway.

Now, with a smirking girl draped around his shoulders, Harry, who saw the look of shock on Astoria's face, felt a shiver run up his spine at what he was sure would be something funny. Daphne quickly unlocked her arms and spun around, smile still plastered to her face.

"Oh, you've just got to see what Harry got me, it's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen!" Now, Harry, who had only spent about two months with Daphne, thought that her voice was just a bit too saccharine, but Astoria (who had grown up with the girl) either was too surprised at her sister's sudden display of affection, or just didn't recognize the warning signs for what they were, blankly stood up and followed her sister into the Slytherin's room...before running out screaming at the top of her lungs. Seeing as Harry was the only substantial thing to hide behind, the second year did just that, cowering behind her chosen shield. Daphne just walked out, trying to calm her frightened kitten. Ignoring everything going on in the room, Daphne just turned her attention to the tree.

"Ooh! Gifts!"

* * *

The remainder of the day went by in a blur for Harry. After opening his gifts, a rather helpful looking pocket knife from Sirius, the usual assortment of candy, though from Hagrid this year, a jumper from Mrs. Weasley and Dungbombs from Ron. Dobby had dropped by to give Harry a gift of socks. (One which Harry returned, much to Daphne and Astoria's amusement) Hermione had gotten him a book entitled Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland. Even though he had played it cool when Daphne had told him, the first thing Harry had done was turn towards the section on the Holyhead Harpies and hoped for a current team photo. Sure enough, there was one from the previous year. Mrs. Greengrass, Maggie as she was labeled in the book, looked much more like Daphne than Harry had thought. Speaking of Daphne, she had made up for her shower curtain the night previous by getting him a wireless. While most of the students got their news from the Daily Prophet, the wireless had a better selection and could get some of the quidditch matches from the Scottish league.

After gifts, Harry had headed up to the Gryffindor Tower to celebrate with Ron and Hermione. The trio spent the day talking about the ball, Ron kept trying to find out who Hermione was going with, and throwing snowballs at each other. About four, Hermione ducked off the get ready for the ball, which garnered another quip from Ron about how long it took girls to get ready. Harry, who despite the impending doom he felt, took the opportunity to remind Ron that the only reason the red head had a date was because his sister had set him up with Luna Lovegood, who, Harry was informed, was their neighbor, or at least the closest thing they had to one. Now, if there is something that is as embarrassing as taking your sister to a dance (without the moral dubiousness) it's taking a neighbor.

Harry returned to his quarters about half past five, leaving him plenty of time to shower and change his clothes before he and Daphne were expected in the Great Hall to open the 'festivities'. His dress robes looked nice, Mrs. Weasley had been right about the color bringing out his eyes. As usual, his hair was all over the place, although, in either a strange sign of luck or magic, his bangs had stayed (mostly) straight and covered his scar from casual view. As he waited for Daphne in their living area, Harry felt the nerves mount.

For the first time, publicly, Harry and Daphne would be linked together. As a couple they would have to stand before three different schools and dance. Though no one had tried to keep their relationship a secret, somehow the news had remained ignorant. Not after tonight! No, tonight they'd have to answer questions about how a Lion and a Snake had hooked up. Why Harry 'Golden Boy' Potter was escorting Slytherin's Ice Queen to the Ball. If experience hadn't taught him that some idiot would take him seriously, Harry would be tempted to answer Imperious, but would instead have to come up with a better answer.

He was interrupted by Daphne's door opening and Astoria exiting. Not being old enough to attend the ball, she had helped Daphne get ready.

"She'll be a minute." The brunette Greengrass informed the nervously pacing Harry. She was rubbing the palm of her left hand with her right thumb, Harry noticed, a nervous habit that Daphne exhibited as well and it appeared that Astoria might be about to say something, when Daphne walked into the room and stole everyone's ability to speak.

She was wearing robes of dark gold. They made her hair appear a bit brighter, still nothing approaching the glare level of Malfoy, but...warmer. Her robes, which Harry almost hesitated to call them, as they were much more akin to a dress than what He was wearing, had some red jewels sewn into the bottom. Her hair was let down, which was nice, because she usually wore it up in a pony tail (Hippogriff Tail as they were often referred to in the magical world) and it flowed down to just about her shoulder blades before curling up just a little bit. She wore very little make up, and if you don't count lip gloss as make up, than all she had on was a little bit of eye liner. Her blue eyes now matched the intensity of Harry's green ones and he was at once mesmerized by them.

From Daphne's perspective, Harry had dressed for the occasion nicely. His dark hair made his already dark green robes even darker, which made his eyes even more captivating. He seemed to have put an effort into looking his best, his finger nails were clipped and dirt free, he had showered and his hair, while still unruly, was so stereotypically Harry that it worked for him. Either his robes were a half size too small or he had grown since they had been purchased, as he filled out the usually baggy garment just a bit more than conservative tradition called for, but who was she to care about tradition. She had spat in it's face enough tonight, what was one more kick in the teeth?

"You look...beautiful Daphne." Harry breathed.

"You know it, Potter!" She quipped back. Daphne had realized very early on in her cohabitation with Harry, that the more relaxed and informal the setting, the better and more comfortable Harry was. She wanted to take as much of the tension out of the evening as possible...that and she wasn't one for the mushy, clichéd responses that books seemed to be fans of.

Harry, seeing the smirk on her face, grinned back broadly and relaxed. Daphne had a wicked sense of humor and seemed to instinctively know when he needed to relax.

"Suppose we'd better be on our way. Although, if you wanted to skip the whole thing and stay in, I guess I'd have to stay with you. It is the duty of the boyfriend, make sure the girl isn't lonely, after all."

It was the first time that either partner in this relationship of errors had used the words boyfriend or girlfriend. Harry was a bit worried that he'd overstepped himself, as Daphne didn't immediately respond or react. But after a moment, she turned to Astoria and grinned widely.

"You're my witness, Stori, since we're officially a couple now, he owes me birthday gifts from here on out!" She turned back to Harry and locked eyes. "Come the first of May I'll expect gifts." With that tongue in cheek response, and a large grin, Daphne walked towards the door and the dance. Harry, who was positioned closer to the door anyway, opened it for her and motioned with his free arm. Without another word to Astoria, the couple walked away leaving the Ravenclaw to make her own exit or remain in a room with a kitten. She took a quick glance towards her sister's room and noticed a pair of glowing eyes staring at her from the crack of the open door. Deciding that she could face this particular fear of hers another day, Astoria beat a hasty retreat to her own common room.

* * *

When Harry and Daphne arrived at the Great Hall, it was already crowded with students, those with dates seemed to be grouped together, talking, while those who had come stag had all gathered around the table that had a gigantic punch bowl made entirely of ice, and other assorted snacks, and were eying those who were lucky enough to find dates with envy. To Harry's amusement, everyone seemed more preoccupied with their own dates to pay much attention to Daphne and him. They weren't given much time to search the room before Professor McGonagall came over and pulled them over to one side where Cedric and his date, Cho Chang were talking quietly with Fleur and a rather bewitched looking Roger Davies. Cedric gave a polite nod of his head to Harry as the new couple approached, which Fleur copied, before she offered a compliment on how good Daphne looked. Daphne returned the compliment, and offered her own to Cho, before the five teens and continued to make easy conversation. Roger didn't say anything and simply remained dumbstruck by his good fortune.

After a couple of minutes, the final couple joined them, Viktor was wearing robes that greatly resembled a tuxedo, complete with a black tie. He was, no doubt, dressed very fashionably, but it was his date that stole everyone's attention. Hermione Granger didn't resemble herself at all. For one, her usually flyaway and frizzy hair was slicked down and tied up in an elegant knot at the top of her head. She wore light blue robes, that much like Daphne, Harry would hesitate to classify as robes, and her smile, while nervous at all the attention, lit up her face with joy.

"Hi Harry, Daphne! How are you doing?" She asked. For a moment Harry was speechless. Never in a million years had he thought that Hermione, the girl who was more likely to have her nose in an advanced transfiguration text than Witch Weekly, would be able to look so beautiful.

"You look great, 'Mione, but why didn't you tell me you were going with Viktor?" Somehow, and for some reason, Daphne's hand had found it's way into Harry's. While Harry couldn't decide who was prettier, his friend or his date, he certainly didn't want Daphne mad at him, so he gave her hand a quick squeeze in reassurance that he hadn't forgotten about her.

"Well, with all the girls in the castle following Viktor around, we didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He was very shy and couldn't work up the courage to ask me out for a while...and you know me, I'm much happier when I'm not the center of attention." Daphne gave a snort of laughter, while Harry just grinned, knowingly.

"Sorry to break it to you Hermione, but you're the date of one of the Triwizard Champions, there's going to be a lot of attention." Harry noticed that Viktor, who hadn't said anything, was paying attention to their conversation intently and looked a little left out.

"Viktor, this is Daphne Greengrass." Harry introduced Daphne to the Bulgarian in as polite a manner as he knew. The two exchanged introductions, and to Harry's amazement, shook hands instead of the bowing and curtsying he had noticed everyone else doing. Viktor, soon after releasing Daphne's hand, offered his right hand to Harry, who returned the gesture, noting how strong the professional Seeker's grip was. Before Harry could comment, McGonagall announced that the Champions would open the ball in just a moment and that they should line up on the dance floor.

Now was the time that Harry was really not looking forward to. If Hermione didn't like to be in the spotlight, than Harry abhorred it. His palms bean to feel clammy and grow damp with sweat as the eight teens who were to open this Ball heard the crowd grow silent and all attention descended onto them. As Harry faced Daphne and held her hands in his, he looked into her eyes and saw that she appeared as nervous as he did, but she had a resolve about her that he lacked. She was going to face this night one event at a time.

And so would he. They were here, together, and he just had to make the best of it. As the music started and the couples took their first dance steps, Harry's focus centered entirely on Daphne. All the other people in the room seemed to disappear as though night had fallen around all but them. Harry found it easier to concentrate on Daphne as opposed to his feet. While certainly they certainly weren't the best dancers, what practice they had done was paying off and Harry managed not to step on her feet once through the initial song. They were stiff, unsure in their steps, but they moved together well enough that neither would have anything to feel embarrassed about later. As the song ended the darkness receded and Harry once again grew aware of the audience in the Hall. He certainly wouldn't call it perfect, but it was better than he had thought it might be.

There was applause for the champions and then everyone transitioned into dinner. The champions had their own seats near the Professors and judges and it wasn't until Harry sat down and reached for his water glass that he realized that Percy Weasley was sitting where Mr. Crouch was expected to be. Other than having to put up with Percy's bragging about his job, dinner was quite enjoyable. The house elves had really out done themselves with the quality and sheer quantity of food available. Almost two-thirds of the menu was foreign to Harry, and he expected that they were Bulgarian and French food, to show consideration to the guest schools.

While Harry, who didn't know how to order until he saw Daphne order some sole, looked over the menu, at least what he recognized on it, before deciding on Pork chops, which instantly appeared before him. The remainder of the meal was spent in quiet conversation, often about the food, but also about some of the stranger sights in the hall. Fairy lights were hung around to provide some soft lighting, while as usual, there were Christmas trees, large and strong throughout the perimeter of the room. There were streamers and small glass globes hung all over the place and even the enchanted ceiling was in the holiday mood, as it was snowing whenever one looked up.

After the meals were finished and the tables were cleared out of the room, the band started up and Harry found himself dancing more often than he had thought he might, but enjoying it more as well. Now that the traditional opening was out of the way the dancing became a bit less rigid and more fluid. Instead of spending the entire night as a group, the Champions and their dates dispersed themselves amongst their friends, Cedric and Cho could be found hanging around a group of Ravenclaws that Cho knew, while Fleur led Roger around by his hand, not unlike a seeing eye dog. While Harry and Daphne spent a good amount of time with Hermione and Viktor, he tried to pay attention to Ron, who was doing a good job of ignoring Luna and either arguing with Hermione or trying not to swoon in front of Viktor.

This, coupled with Tracey pulling Daphne away for some reason or other, allowed Harry a chance to talk with the rather odd girl. Luna constantly seemed like she was either totally out of touch with the world or had a better grasp of it than anyone Harry had ever met. While Harry had never heard of a Crumple Horned Snorkack, he decided that he like Luna's...style. At one point he had tried to apologize for Ron's lack of attention, but found his efforts unnecessary.

"That's just the way Ronald is." Luna responded while looking at a spot over Harry's left shoulder. "Besides, I'm not good at dancing anyways and the decorations are just gorgeous." It was the most sensible thing she said to him all night.

Daphne returned with Tracey, whose date, some boy from Durmstrang, had turned out to be about as good at dancing as Ron and as such was now standing alone while Tracey socialized. As the night went on Harry and Daphne stayed close to each other. There was some safety as a pair, the odd student seemed afraid to approach them as a couple, but when Daphne had gone off with Tracey, just how shocked the students were at the pairing became clear. Some of the braver students had walked up and asked her how she and Harry had gotten together, while some of the less brave students had paired together to demand the same answer.

About ten, Daphne, who had become tired of the feeling of eyes on her, and noting Harry's boredom with dancing, had suggested that the pair go outside, to the temporary garden that had been erected just for tonight. Thanks to the same warming charms that kept their bedrooms from freezing, the garden was comfortable, while providing a nice alternative to the busy Hall. For five minutes they just walked. Walked away from prying eyes and nosy minds. They didn't say much, Daphne would remark about how beautiful one flower was, or Harry would say that this bush was nice. Either a lot of people didn't know about the warming charms, or they just were having more fun inside, but for whatever reason, it was blissfully vacant outside.

"I want to say," Daphne began, still holding Harry's hand from when their little hike began. "that this has been fun." Harry blushed at the comment.

"I haven't done anything special." He tried to explain.

"That's fine." Daphne interjected. "I think that's why tonights been so good. You've been...well, you, but it's like everyone else's opinions don't matter to you. You're usually so sensitive to everyone else and tonight it's just...it's like I'm all you've cared about all night."

"Is that so wrong?" He asked. Daphne wasn't one to need coddling, she wasn't a spoiled princess like Malfoy, but she was still a girl, and didn't all women like to be treated nicely? Daphne just laughed.

"Absolutely not! It's just a nice change is all." Harry smiled, both at her compliment and how beautiful she looked when she was flushed.

"Well, while we're clearing the air, I've had a great night too. I haven't made an ass of myself and managed not to step on your feet so far."

"Now wait just a moment! There was that time during the third song." Daphne countered. Harry colored at being caught in a lie.

"Was hoping you'd missed that."

"Missed it? Their my feet, how was I going to miss that?" Daphne laughed. Harry loved that laugh. It was official now. Daphne's laugh was as good a chocolate, it could make him feel better, even if it was at his own expense. The two had been away from the dance for almost a half an hour by this point, and were slowly meandering their way back to the Great Hall when Daphne dropped a bit of a bombshell.

"I meant to ask you..." Daphne spoke. "Dad asked me to tell you that you'll be celebrating New Years with us, at home. So Mum can meet you and we can go over some of the...arrangements for, you know, this summer."

At first Harry was struck by a bout of nerves. Meeting Daphne's parents, the thing that made all men revert to frightened babes...would Mrs. Greengrass like him? Would Mr. Greengrass feel that this arrangement was still working in his daughter's favor? These worries began to crash around Harry's head, along with the obligatory, male question. 'I wonder what's for dinner?'

An interesting side note, the 'male question', (any question which under normal circumstances men are wise enough not to ask, but when faced with a pretty woman will blurt out anyway) is but one of many subsets of research being done on men in general. Other topics of research involve how long it takes for a man to change a light bulb, why men enjoy watching televised golf, and why men find fart jokes funny. Now, these mind sound farcical, but a fierce battle has sprung up after an answer was posed to the first question. Research indicated that it didn't matter how many men noticed the burnt out bulb, it would take a woman yelling before the bulb was changed. Predictably, this has angered many men, who have, in one moment, contended that not only is that answer wrong, but that a woman had given that answer with the sole intent of keeping men in their place. Women responded by saying "That's preposterous, you're being pig headed, as usual!"

Men responded: "Yes dear."

Harry was very close to asking what would be served, but thankfully a new question hit him.

"How was that a question?" Daphne just laughed.

As they walked back inside, the two teens passed Hagrid and the Beauxbatons head mistress, Madame Maxime, who were going for a stroll through the garden themselves, they were greeted by the sounds of what sounded suspiciously like Hermione and Ron arguing. They didn't notice one particularly pleased looking beetle fly away.

* * *

Sure enough, Ron and Hermione were having quite the row when Harry and Daphne got to the doors to the Great Hall. Ron, who had been bad mouthing Viktor Krum (when he hadn't been trying to get his autograph) was accusing Hermione of what equated to espionage. Besides causing Hermione to run off in tears, Luna to give Ron a disproving glare and walking away, this also put a damper on the remainder of Harry and Daphne's night. Harry was so worried about the only person who had stood by him throughout this tournament that he couldn't focus properly whenever Ron (who remained at the ball just to avoid seeing Hermione) would walk past his line of sight. Daphne's feet suffered three more unauthorized intrusions after that and while her night was still a win in her books, they'd have to practice dancing some more before she took Harry to another ball.

As midnight approached the band played one last song and slowly the Hall emptied as students returned to their dorms.

Harry opened the door to their quarters and held it for Daphne, who quickly stepped through so she could get out of the uncomfortable shoes she was wearing. Kicking the offending articles towards an unused corner of the living room, she was greeted by her kitten, who she had named Oscar. No particular reason, she just thought it was a nice name for the cat. She slumped into her chair and sighed in contentment as relief washed over her sore feet. She closed her eyes as the knocking on the door echoed around. Only one person, that wasn't a professor, would be asking for entrance this late at night and if Hermione wanted Harry to comfort her, then that's what she deserved. It was Christmas after all. Okay, so technically, it wasn't, but the spirit remained. When she opened her eyes, she saw just how hard Hermione was taking her current fight with the unusually dim red head.

Granger's eyes were puffy and red with tears and the way she was gripping Crookshanks couldn't have been pleasant for the half kneazle. Deciding that the two could use the room, Daphne stood up.

"I'll just be going to bed now."

Harry looked torn between his girlfriend and his best friend. He wanted to spend time with Daphne after the successful evening they'd had, but Hermione really needed him. Hermione, despite her tears and disheveled appearance, looked guilty at her intrusion.

"Daphne-" Harry tried to come up with something to say, some way to explain his predicament, but Daphne seemed to understand.

"If Astoria and I had a row like that I'd want to see Tracey afterwards." She explained as she walked back to her own sanctuary. As she closed the door she felt conflicted. The chemistry that she and Harry had going was broken, and she couldn't help but blame Hermione. But on the other hand, Harry was the only friend that Hermione could go to now that Ron had all but burned his bridge to her. Besides, she'd had a full night, a great night. She just couldn't help but wonder if it might have been perfect if it weren't for Hermione.

* * *

**(A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I hope this chapter lives up to the expectations and wishes of everyone who's read this. Things are beginning to move forward, and I hope that I've struck a balance between those who want things to move at a realistic pace, and those who wanted me to speed things up. Please review and as always, constructive criticism is appreciated.)**


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione fell asleep on Harry's bed that night. While she knew that Ron wasn't the most mature boy in their year, and that he had a tendency to speak before thinking things through (not to mention without closing his mouth) his words hurt. She didn't know why, but Ron calling her a spy and turncoat was the most painful thing anyone had ever said to her. Malfoy's constant use of the term Mudblood didn't even compare with a friend calling you a traitor in front of the majority of the school. All Harry could do was allow her to use his dress robes as tissues and offer her what little words of comfort he had. This was not a position he was used to being in, though he realized that it was one he'd have to get used to and soon.

It was just past two in the morning when Hermione stopped crying, and only then because she had fallen asleep in his arms. Harry laid his best friend down, for she was without a doubt his greatest friend at the moment, and stood up to stretch his back and arms. Holding crying witches wasn't an easy task! Even when he was acting as snot catcher, Harry's mind had been trapped in the memory of the evening he and Daphne had shared together. Continuously he replayed their walk through the enchanted garden and recalled her laugh. Even when she had told him that they would be spending New Year's eve with her family, Harry was happy to be in her company. He didn't feel angry that she had sprung this on him, nor did he feel scared at the prospect. If Paul Greengrass was going to hex him he would have done it back in November, not wait almost two months and then do him in.

Hedwig glided back onto her perch, back from hunting Harry surmised by the rather content look on her face. He walked over and stood next to her and gazed out over the grounds. The snow was illuminated by the moon, and the peaks and troughs carved into the powder by with wind cast shadows at intermittent intervals. The clouds in the usually overcast Scottish sky had gaps in them, and under the right conditions, the stars and the moon would come out in earnest and illuminate the trees of the forbidden forest, adding more shadows to dance around the grounds. In these times, if Harry looked hard enough, and deep enough, into the woods, he could just make out some movement. Probably just the wind blowing some tree branches around, but maybe it was a centaur, moving with the clouds to get an unobstructed view of the night sky. It reminded Harry of the night, last year, when he had been peering out the window and had seen Crookshanks meet Sirius.

This memory caused Harry to wonder how his Godfather had spent the holiday. Hopefully not in that cave. Deciding, that while he was still up, he would write a thank you note to his Godfather, Harry grabbed a spare bit of parchment and a quill, and, as quietly as he could, slid out into the common area of his quarters. At first, it started out very simply.

_Snuffles, _

_Thanks for the knife, it looks dead useful and though I don't know how many doors I'll come across this next task, I can't wait to test it out. I hope you and Buckbeak had a good Christmas, I doubt it was as fancy as the one we had, but please tell me you at least got out of that cave! I think you'd catch your death if you stayed in there now._

But the more Harry wrote, the more he found himself talking about Daphne and the night they had shared together.

_The Yule Ball was fun, I can't dance very well, but Daphne didn't mind...too much. You should have seen the decorations, I think Hagrid and the other Professors went all out this year. I've never seen so many lights or trees that big! I know you never held a Triwizard Tournament while you and my father were in school, but did you ever have a ball, or a dance like this? They had this enchanted garden outside, someone must have spent hours casting all the warming charms needed to keep it nice out there, but it was lovely. Daphne and I took a stroll out there for a while. I think we both needed a break from dancing and all the prying eyes. By the way, she told me tonight, that I was invited to spend New Year's Eve with her and her family, though the way she phrased it, I don't really have much of a choice in the matter. Is there anything I should know about customs or anything like that? Before tonight I've never been at a meal fancier than the welcoming feast and that paled in comparison to last night. _

_Sadly, it wasn't all good, Ron and Hermione had a major row, right in the entrance chamber, and she's real tore up about it. She actually fell asleep in my room because she's wore out from crying so much. I don't know what's up with Ron, he seems to be just blurting out things this year. You know, the more I think about it, the more I realize that he's always done that. I don't know what's got him so bothered, but just since Halloween he's accused me of glory seeking, cheating my way into the tournament, lying to him about cheating my way into the tournament, and now he's gone and accused Hermione of spying on me, just because she went to the ball with Viktor Krum. _

_Anyway, I'll wrap this up, not only is it almost 3 in the morning, but I'm about out of parchment to write on. _

_Merry Christmas,_

_Harry._

After folding his letter up, Harry slunk back into his room to send Hedwig off with his letter. Looking at his (currently occupied) bed, Harry saw Hermione curled into a ball, still holding Crookshanks, but thankfully, not as tightly as before. She was still wearing her dress robes, having not bothered to change in her grief, and Harry, not wanting to wake her up, simply covered her with his comforter, before grabbing a pillow from under her head and slipping back out of his room. He could sleep out here tonight, both to giver Hermione her space, but also, with a bit of luck, he'd be able to see Daphne first thing in the morning, and maybe they could pick up where they left off earlier.

* * *

Now, as luck would have it, Sirius did not spend Christmas in that cave over looking Hogsmeade. He spent it with Remus, and while they had a good time, reminiscing about school days and having perhaps a bit too much Fire Whiskey, they were able to do so only because Paul Greengrass, who they had been looking into to, was celebrating the holiday, and when in Rome...

What the two marauders had discovered about the Greengrass Patriarch could fill the prefect's bathtub. What they _knew_, beyond a shadow of a doubt, could fill a thimble. What Paul did made perfect sense, and thus, in the logic of one in the intelligence gathering business, it made no sense at all. Paul ran his own private accounting firm, filing taxes for private customers, or keeping books for business who contracted out to him. He was the only employee, not so much as a house elf or assistant to help him out. His clientèle ran the gamut from pure blood to mudblood to drinks blood. (Sirius was certain that saw a vampire leaving one day.) Lucius Malfoy had been a client, a large client in fact, until just after Draco attacked Daphne. Overnight the Malfoys went from being one of the firms largest clients to being black listed.

Besides the one-eighty on the Malfoy's, there were other...odd things about Paul and his business. As well as tax preparation, Paul offered financial advice where he could, and according to everyone they had spoken to, he was very knowledgeable on the subject. He was good at his job, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy it. Despite the fact that his wife pulled in enough money for both of them to live on, (Saying Maggie was 'just' a keeper was like saying that Alex Ferguson is 'just' a manager, or that Michael Jordan is 'just' a basketball player) Paul worked, what was in essence, a menial job, crunching numbers and suggesting what companies to buy into. Perhaps the most interesting, thought provoking, head scratching, (and then once all the pieces fell together) stomach churning thing was that Paul held a muggle degree. Now, Paul did some book keeping for a couple of business with muggle branches, but he didn't have any muggle clients.

Besides prompting the question, why would Lucius Malfoy, one of the most ardent champions of blood supremacy known, do business with someone (even a pureblood) with a muggle degree, this peculiar bit of information made Sirius pause whenever he thought of it. Whatever the reason that Paul needed that degree, it allowed him to do something that was so important, that someone like Malfoy was willing to overlook this little fact just to have their taxes compiled.

So far, neither Sirius nor Remus had any evidence that anything illegal, immoral or even shady was going on in Paul's business, but the gut feeling, that something was lurking just under the surface, persisted. Sirius had always trusted his instincts, even from a very young age, and right now they were telling him that there was more to Paul Greengrass than many realized.

* * *

Despite Harry sleeping in the common area he shared with Daphne, it was Hermione who actually got to see the former Slytherin first. She had woken in a strange bed with Crookshanks curled up into her stomach, still in her dress robes from the night previous. It took her couple of seconds to sort her memories out, but when she realized that she was in Harry's room, sans Harry, she quickly got up from his bed and went to find him. He was laying in the small love seat that was positioned in front of the fire, with the pillow he had pilfered from his own room fallen to the floor. There was a blanket draped over him, which Hermione couldn't remember seeing before.

"He must have come out here and let you have the bed last night." Daphne's voice caught Hermione off guard. She turned to see the pretty blond sitting at the small table with a half eaten slice of toast and some eggs. Judging by the dark circles under Daphne's eyes, she hadn't gotten much sleep, though she was wearing much more comfortable clothes. "You look like something the kneazle dragged in." Daphne commented with a small smile on her lips. The comment wasn't entirely in jest, she still wasn't too happy with the bushy haired Gryffindor, but at the same time, she sympathized with the situation Hermione had found herself in. Fighting with a friend was so much worse than fighting with a schoolmate or someone you weren't all that close to.

"No offense, but you don't look a whole lot better." Hermione replied. There was just this feeling, like a brick wall, that stood between the two women. Daphne just shrugged and ripped a piece of toast from the larger piece in her hand.

"Couldn't get to sleep." She replied once she had finished chewing. Hermione, for the first time glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that it was only just after six in the morning.

"Mind if I sit with you?" She asked, laying a hand on the second chair set at the table. Daphne didn't respond other than to shove a plate of toast her way. Thankful for something to do other than look at Daphne reading a piece of parchment, Hermione dug into some wheat with a bit of jam on it. After a minute of quiet chewing, she decided to try and strike up an actual conversation.

"Harry told me that you were looking at possibly transferring schools come end of year." Daphne didn't respond or even look up from her parchment. "I didn't know that there were more schools besides Hogwarts, was there anywhere in particular you were looking?" Daphne's first reaction was to snort in laughter. Hermione Granger, not researching every school of magic known to wizard kind? Unthinkable! Looking up from her letter, Daphne saw the genuine intrigue in her companion's eyes and felt a bit guilty.

"There's only two others, and neither is as good as Hogwarts, though each has their own points. Cardiff University has a magical program for underage wizards although it's mostly a feeder program for the University, so mostly muggle borns go there. Then there's actually a whole system of schools in Suffolk, but their much larger than Hogwarts and the educators aren't as well though of."

Hermione pointed to the paper still in Daphne's hand. "Is that from one of them?" The blond handed Hermione the paper, the crest of Cardiff University stamped on top. Reading down, Hermione became confused. Daphne had been accepted, no problem there, but it mentioned that it was nice to see that the University would see another Greengrass. The muggle born witch's surprise was evident on her face, and Daphne, seemingly anticipating such a reaction, was ready with an answer.

"My father's an alumni. He had to have a degree to work in the muggle world." Hermione was still confused.

"Why would your father need to go to the muggle world for work?" She asked. Having not spoken with Harry about Daphne's family, she thought Paul either worked in the Ministry or as a business owner.

"Well, the goblin's aren't too fond of him, what with him cutting into their business." This just confused Hermione more.

"What is he doing that would upset the goblins?" She questioned rather loudly, earning a mumble from Harry's sleeping form. Daphne just gave her companion a strange look, like this was something a first year was expected to know. After a second Daphne blinked and shook her head, as if shaking herself awake.

"Daddy's an accountant and offers some financial advice on the side. The goblins take that as a slight at their trustworthiness and so they aren't too friendly."

Hermione was surprised but quickly recovered. "How does he make a living doing that? I can't imagine that there are too many people that would risk getting on the wrong side of the goblins."

"Oh you'd be surprised." Daphne replied dismissively. "There are a lot of people that don't entirely trust Gringotts, so for them, having a wizard willing to do their books is a welcome option." The more Hermione thought about it, the more it made sense, but the notion that there was enough people who would have such biased views...it did make her wonder what she would do after Hogwarts. Maybe living with a foot in both worlds wasn't such a bad idea.

* * *

Harry fidgeted with his tie for the umpteenth time that night. He wore somewhat formal clothes, a tie and sweater vest over a while collard shirt, along with black lacks. Daphne just shook her head at his antics, she had tried to tell him that meeting her mother wouldn't be any more difficult that meeting her father, but Harry didn't listen. The two were waiting outside the headmaster's office, waiting on Astoria. The three would floo from inside to Greengrass Knoll, and be back the next morning. Well, Harry would be back the next morning; Daphne and Astoria would ride the Express back with the rest of the school that didn't stay over the break.

Daphne didn't see what the big deal was. Her mother wasn't one to overreact to a situation and she knew that since her father approved of Harry, that her mother wouldn't stray too far from that sentiment. Her largest worry was that they would bring out embarrassing baby photos or stories from when she tried to, in a fit of sibling jealousy, mail Astoria to Azkaban. But while those thoughts were edifying, the most terrifying thing that her parents could do was blurt out her secret to Harry.

Now this secret...it was without a doubt her greatest shame, more so that the fact that she and Tracey had been discussing what their dream weddings would be when she accidentally bound Harry and herself together. Worse that the time she had peed herself the first time she had gone to watch one of her Mother's matches. Her parents had tried many times to convince her that it wasn't a bad thing, that she had nothing to be ashamed of. The only one to know outside of her family was Tracey, and while her best friend had taken the news in stride, Daphne just couldn't bring herself to tell Harry, sure that he would feel the same as her, that she was a freak and that he would want nothing to do with her. And the more she lived with him, the more she found that thought...disturbing. Harry was quickly becoming something she was unwilling to give up.

Astoria came up to the pair, out of breath from running all the way from the Ravenclaw dorms. She and Daphne both wore variations of the same outfit, jeans and a sweater. Astoria's sweater was Ravenclaw bronze with a large dark blue A stitched along her left side, so that it ran onto both the front and back of the garment. Daphne's was black with a dark yellow/orange colored D that covered her stomach entirely. Astoria wheezed an apology for her tardiness as Harry turned to the gargoyle that served as the door to the Headmaster's office and gave the password. The trio quickly made they way to the office, where Dumbledore waited to see them off. It was a rare occasion indeed when students were allowed to leave school grounds without taking the express.

He looked over the three students as they stood before him. Astoria seemed excited to visit her parents (and perhaps just a smidgen gleeful at the idea of Harry being grilled), while the engaged couple seemed to be much more tense and nervous. He smiled and waved them further into his study.

"I'm glad to see that at least one of you is looking forward to this little get together." He raised his arm and with a wave of his wand, his fireplace sprung to life with a roaring fire. "Well, you'd best be on your way if you don't wish to keep your parents waiting any longer."

Astoria was the first to step into the floo, disappearing with a clear declaration of "Greengrass Knoll!"

Once she had been given a moment to clear the fireplace at the other end of the connection, Daphne stepped up (after being waved on by Harry, who wasn't too keen on the floo system). Once she had like wise vanished in a roar of emerald flame, Harry, resolving himself to another disastrous landing, stepped up and was about to follow his intended, when the Headmaster interrupted him.

"Harry, I've one bit of advice for you if you've a moment." Harry nodded, his palms sweating at the stress he was feeling. "Throughout this entire ordeal, you've handled yourself with great honesty and unflappable character, traits which I've seen in you more than any other student in all my years here. As long as you continue to be true, both to yourself and to Miss Greengrass I doubt very much that her parents will find any reason to dislike you."

Harry nodded in thanks, for the first time he felt he actually understood the advice the headmaster gave him. He stepped through the floo and felt the familiar sensation of becoming a top before vanishing from Scotland and heading to meet his fate...err...in laws.

* * *

Sure enough, Harry landed on his but, but to his great relief, neither Daphne or Astoria were there to witness his shame. Maggie Greengrass, on the other hand, was. Daphne's mother was a near mirror image of her eldest daughter, save that her eyes were a more joyful blue than Daphne's icy orbs. They shared the same hair color, though Maggie's was shorter than Daphne's, and shared a similar build and facial structure.

"Up ya go!" She said, offering her right hand to help Harry extricate himself from the floor.

"Thanks." Harry muttered in embarrassment. His first impression to his mother in law was going to be that of a clumsy boy. Just great.

"No problem." Maggie waved her hand dismissively. "Curse of the sport, seems the better you are in the air, worse you handle the floo. Can't stand the thing myself."

Harry took a moment to look around the Greengrass house. It was not as large as he had been expecting, perhaps a bit larger than the Burrow, but not by much. There were paintings and vases throughout the foyer, and a large staircase took up a large part of the entrance way. Overall, Harry was impressed, but not intimidated. It seemed to Harry that Paul and Maggie weren't trying to impress him, but rather show him what they were like most any day of the week.

"Everyone else is through here, hope your hungry, we've got a pretty big spread tonight." Maggie ushered him to the dining room, where Daphne was already sitting at a large table, listening as Astoria narrated her year so far to Paul, who was listening, but with eyes locked onto Harry as he entered the room. When he finally locked eyes with the teen, a large grin broke out on Paul's face.

"Harry! Sit, sit, we're just about ready to start eating." Maggie quickly pushed Harry into the seat next to Daphne and no sooner had she taker her own seat opposite Paul, than the salad course appeared on their plates. For a couple of minutes Harry did nothing but shovel lettuce and greens to his mouth and watch the interactions between Daphne's family. Astoria was scarfing down her food and gesturing wildly when she recalled her time at school since she had last seen her parents. Maggie and Paul were both attentive to their youngest and laughed at her stories, even her attempt at painting herself as standing strong in the face of the overwhelming terror that was Oscar the kitten.

As the salad course gave way to the main course (Roast beef and garlic roasted potatoes with honey glazed carrots and steamed broccoli), Harry noticed that while Daphne was more relaxed than at school, she was still on edge and seemed to be blocking herself off from the rest of the family. In fact, she seemed no more relaxed then when they were alone in their dorms. As the meal wore on, and the more that Harry observed Daphne's behavior, the more she seemed to freeze up and revert to her Ice Queen persona.

After the main course, they adjourned to the sitting room where Harry became the focus of everyone's attention.

"So, Harry, since Daphne hasn't really told us anything about you, why don't we get to know each other better." Maggie suggested. Now, one thing that the magical world and muggle had in common was that no one asked who was Harry Potter? The magical population already knew, or thought they knew him, and no one cared about him in the muggle realm. So this put Harry in an uncomfortable spot, he didn't know what to say.

"What do you want to know?" He asked.

"Whatever you want to tell us." Paul answered for his wife. "We've got a few questions, but really we just want to get to know you better. You'll be family soon enough and all that we truly know are what little Daphne tells us and all those overly romanticized stories that have you fighting dragons and marauding goblins since you were old enough to crawl."

"We've actually gotten more information from Astoria than Daphne." Her mother joked. Harry noted the embarrassment flash across the youngest daughter's face at that note.

"Your flying against Ravenclaw last year really made an impression on Astoria. She's always been more into Quidditch than Daphne, and she sent a very detailed report home." Paul supplied, answering the puzzled look on Harry's face. "I must say, you more than handled yourself against that dragon as well." The man's smile was warm and as far as Harry could tell, genuine.

"Very Impressive." Maggie agreed. "Even got Daphne to send a few words home."

Whatever those words were, Daphne was blushing at the comment, so Harry figured they must have been pretty positive.

"Thanks." He said. "Since the first flying lesson I've enjoyed it, and Wood was such an excellent coach, he just made everyone fly their best." Maggie's smile, if possible, got larger.

"A great coach can do that. I remember, my third year in the league, we got a new coach, and he came in and turned everything upside down, restructured the chaser's..."

She was cut off by her husband's hand rubbing her knee, in a very affectionate, 'you've gone too far, dear' kind of gesture.

"If you can't talk quidditch twenty-four/seven, I'd suggest looking for another line of work after school." Paul stated from experience. He'd expected that to act as an segue to another line of conversation, but instead, it brought up a question Harry had been holding onto since Daphne told him about her father's work.

"Actually, I haven't put much thought into what I'll do after Hogwarts. If you don't mind me asking, how did you decide on your job?" Paul shot a hurried glance to Daphne, who had gone a bit white, but managed to shake her head just the smallest amount. Before too much unspoken information could be sent, Harry went on. "I mean, I can't imagine that there is too much need for an accountant, won't the goblins do that for you?"

"Excellent question!" Paul beamed. "First off, the Greengrass family isn't what you would consider a traditional pure-blood family."

"But Daphne said it wasn't unusual for both parents to work in the magical world?" Harry asked.

"It's not." Daphne answered. "What Dad means is that our choice of vocation isn't usual." While Paul smiled, Astoria and Maggie shared a chuckle at Daphne's choice in vocabulary.

"Couldn't have said it any better!" Paul replied. "My great-great-great, something, something, something, aunt was Gunhilda of Goresemoor, who discovered the cure for Dragon pox. Ever since, we've been wealthy enough so that we can go into whatever we find interesting, if we make a profit all the better, but we won't be ruined by one or two or even six failed prospects. My grandfather, for example, spent the majority of his life trying to untransfigure Quintepeds. After that, he worked on a cure for Basilisk venom for a while."

"Did he ever try Phoenix tears?" Harry asked, a bit of a smile playing over his lips. The atmosphere around the house was relaxing to him. The house was well furnished, cleaned and roomy, but it all just felt cozy. There wasn't the chaos of the Burrow, with it's nine occupants, and while he had never seen it, Harry thought it a good guess that it wasn't as gaudy and showy as Malfoy's home. Here was a family, rich enough to probably gild the toilet seats, but they acted as if money was merely nice thing to have. They could be as poor as the Weasleys and Harry felt they would still be the exact same people. Money didn't make them, it wasn't why people knew them or respected them. These were people that saw through the kind of posturing that Vernon Dursley employed whenever he was wooing a new client.

"Don't think so." Paul replied. "Though if anything would work, phoenix tears would do the trick."

"Oh, they work." Harry answered automatically. Once he realized what he said, he lowered his head in embarrassment. He was a private guy and wasn't one to go about bragging about his accomplishments to people outside his small group of friends.

"Seems there's a story there." Maggie prompted softly. "Mind sharing?"

Harry didn't want to answer and very strongly considered declining her request. Before he could give his answer, Paul interjected.

"We'll all understand if you don't feel like sharing with us, but I realize, that despite giving you a little history lesson on our family, I didn't actually answer your question. So before you start, just let me finish and then you can decide weather to tell us, what I'm sure, would be a great story." Harry, quite thankful for the momentary reprieve, nodded. "Well, it all started my last year of Hogwarts. I was in a pretty serious relationship with my current girlfriend, Jennie Malkin, yes, Madam Malkin, and it was her dream to open up a clothing business, so we decided to go into it together. I'd handle the financial aspect and she'd do all the designs and fabrication. Well after about six or seven months, we weren't doing as well as we had hoped. I blamed the designs and she blamed my money management...long story short, we got into a large fight and split up. Not being as emotionally mature as I am now-" That got a snort of laughter from his wife and smiles from his daughters.

"What he means," Maggie supplied through her giggling, "is that he got really depressed and stormed off to the muggle world in an effort to avoid Jennie." Paul colored at the characterization, but continued.

"So I went to University to get a degree, mostly to get away for a while, but also because I truly enjoyed the work. It was a good choice on my part, because a couple of days after I competed the degree, the Harpies put out feelers for an accounting position, which I applied for and thankfully got. I was good at my job and willing to work long hours, which was good because I spent a lot of time that first year just watching the new reserve Keeper."

It took Harry a second before he realized that Paul meant Maggie was the new keeper, but the story was quite romantic and Harry found himself smiling despite the cheesy delivery. The openness that the family around him was infectious and Harry found himself about to recount the ending to his second year.

"I'm sure you heard about the 'Heir of Slytherin' incident from a couple of years ago?" Paul and Maggie nodded while Astoria actually seemed a bit lost. "Well, for a while, everyone thought I was the heir, because I could speak parseltounge and was always around when someone was found petrified. Ron and Hermione, er...they're my friends, we tried to find the heir or the monster, so that we could clear my name, but Hermione got petrified and then G-...a student was taken into the Chamber of Secrets and everyone threatened to close the school."

"The Chamber is real?" Daphne almost yelled. She couldn't believe it, everyone believed it to be a rumor, that Slytherin had actually created a secret chamber would be the historical find of the century! Harry just nodded and continued on.

"Hermione had discovered that the monster was a Basilisk and Ron and I discovered where the Chamber was and went down there to try and save...the student. We took Lockhart with us, thinking he'd be helpful, but he turned out to be a fake and ended up obliviating himself and causing a cave in, that separated Ron and I." By this time, everyone's attention was squarely on Harry. Nobody in the room had ever heard the details of this incident before and Daphne and Astoria were shocked at just what Harry was describing. Astoria hadn't started Hogwarts at the time, and she had never been told exactly what had happened the year prior to her start. There were rumors and stories, but few facts, which being a Ravenclaw, was all she cared about.

Daphne on the other hand, remembered quite clearly the events that led up to Harry's story. The fear that the majority of the school had experienced that year wasn't something you could just forget. Nor was Draco's insufferable gloating. The temper tantrum he threw when he learned his father had been sacked from the board of Governors was worth the threat to your health just to watch. But Harry's tale...it was so remarkable, so incredible and yet the way he told it, he was just doing his job. There was a detachment that Harry had, a detachment she recognized and sympathized with. This was a very tough thing for him, to tell the story, probably for the first time, to a family he had only met recently. Harry was shy and almost innately selfless. He didn't want the fame or glory that this story would bring if he went to a paper or magazine. He would be perfectly happy never to speak of this again, never tell how brave and heroic he was.

But here he was, spilling his guts to her parents, who seemed just as impressed as she was with his tale, not regaling, not embellishing, but stating, very simply-

"-I stabbed the Basilisk through it's mouth, but it bit me in my elbow. I though for sure I'd die, but then Fawkes came over and began to cry into the wound, and it healed up as quickly as Madam Pomfrey can fix a sliver. Well, Voldemort didn't like that too much, and scared Fawkes off, before he tried to kill me, but I was able to stab the diary he came out of with the Basilisk fang, which caused this 'memory' to disappear."

When Harry stopped speaking, everyone stared at him. What he had described...it was...for a boy, only twelve at the time, to kill a basilisk and foil the plan of the Dark Lord! There were very few adult wizards who could claim that!

"Harry..." Paul spoke softly, still in shock at what he'd been told. But quickly a smile split his lips and laughter reverberated from the Greengrass patriarch. "I had been hoping to find out what your favorite classes were and perhaps which club you supported, but instead it turns out that you've accomplished such an amazing feat...I thought that what you did back in October took an extraordinary amount of courage, but now I see that bravery is something you have in spades."

The rest of the night's discussion was spent on much lighter fare. Harry learned as much about the family he would be marrying into as they did about him, and by the end of the night, Harry was tired, full of great food, and genuinely excited to have met these people. Even if Daphne decided to go to another school, Harry hoped that his family would be half as interesting as these people were.

As he was laying down in the guest bed, Harry thought over his night. Memories floated about his mind, from the food they had shared to the stories. Among all these stories, Daphne's face continuously floated in and both stole his breath when she laughed and smiled, but caused him pause when she would freeze up and back away emotionally from a story or scenario. It intrigued him, just how and why such a beautiful girl would close herself off emotionally and right then and there, he resolved himself, weather or not they worked out, he wanted to know. To try his best to get her to confide in him, that would be his goal.

**(A/N: Sorry that this took so long, I did something that any of my English teacher would tell you I don't usually do. Rewrite. I was unhappy with this so many times that I restarted it three different times. To make up for the delay, this is a bit longer than I usually write for a chapter, but I hope to have a new chapter, including the second task and the revelation of Daphne's secret, up soon. **

**Thank you for all the great reviews, please keep them coming. Also, if you could let me know what you think about Paul's mystery job. If you like the idea I might keep everything in the dark for a little while longer, if not, I can spill that probably in the next couple of chapters. Thanks for the input!) **


	5. Chapter 5

Now, say what you will about the Magical world, that it's outdated, backwards, discriminatory, male-dominated, easily corrupt, rife, vile, rank, run by those with the most money, enslaves sentient creatures to do nothing more than chores, etc, etc. But the one thing that those of the magical realm have over those of the mundane, is brevity. Well, perhaps not brevity, given the penchant for book titles such as, Powers You Never Knew You Had and What to Do With them Now You've Wised Up, or A Study into the Possibility of Reversing the Actual and Metaphysical Effects of Natural Death, with Particular Regard to the Reintegration of Essence and Matter...perhaps succinct is a better term. Muggles have a strange propensity to over think things. See patterns when none really exist, finding meanings that just aren't there. Take for example, most University level classes in Literature. Many works of literature have been over-analyzed so much that certain, false, interpretations have now become cannon unto themselves.

Wizards, on the other hand, have the opposite sentiment, in that everything is exactly as it appears, and perhaps those witches and wizards living in Britain are best at this. Never would you find Albus Dumbledore going on about how a falling clock symbolizes the inevitability of aging, or that 1984 really was a book about how we should all just get along.

Perhaps the best example of this dichotomy found when discussing the nature of magic. Magic, according to muggles is usually described as a force outside of the laws of science, yet limited by a different set of rules, such as Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. In the magical world, things are much simpler, as instead of looking towards science, philosophy or religion for answers, wizards turn to the courts, and one case in particular, Ministry of Magic vs. Dale and Douglas (1886) or MoM vs. DaD as it's more commonly known. The details are a bit tedious, but suffice it to say that it involves a a duel to the death , an ancestor of Draco Malfoy, a fruit stand, a couple of walnuts, six drops of rain and a parakeet. The exact series of events aren't really important, what matters is the Wizengamot's ruling, which has since been summarized as such: 'magic does whatever it wants'.

This is important, because what Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass share, above all else, is magic, more importantly, magic that despite the best efforts and intentions of these two, will do whatever it wants, whenever it wants and with the sole intent to bring these two together.

* * *

Since New Years, Harry and Daphne had been much more cordial with one another, with Harry being more trusting and transparent with his intended, while Daphne was back to making jokes and being more open around him. They were much more like best friends than they had been before the meeting over the holidays, and their new found closeness was tested very soon after classes resumed, in the form of a Rita Skeeter article that ran on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

_**Boy-Who-Lived to Wed?**_

_**By Rita Skeeter**_

_ Since Boxing Day, those of you have been faithful followers of this paper know that the Yule Ball, held to celebrate the season as well as the ongoing Triwizard Tournament, was a smashing success for the youngest members of our society. What wasn't reported, due to the time that this reporter required to verify her facts, was that good food, seasonal cheer and the prospect of having a pretty witch on his arm may not have been the only things that Harry Potter was celebrating that night. While the news of the night was the unlikely pairing of International Quidditch star Viktor Krum and muggle born Hermione Granger, perhaps the second most surprising pairing will become the biggest news of the tournament. While no one outside of Hogwarts could have guessed that Harry Potter, youngest champion and celebrity in his own right, would arrive with the beautiful Daphne Greengrass on his arm, what first caught this reporter's attention was that the students themselves seemed to accept this as if it were normal. _

"_Daphne hasn't been living in the dorms since early last month." (November) Pansy Parkinson told me. "She and Potter have been living in their own quarters since before the first task, and don't come out much besides classes and meals."_

_Draco Malfoy confirms Ms. Parkinson's comments. "No one sees them much anymore." Mr. Malfoy went on to question the reason that two teenage, under-age wizards were given a room to themselves, something which this reporter was unable to receive an answer to. While we did not receive an answer from Albus Dumbledore in time for this edition, the Prophet has been told by the Ministry that the only two answers they could come up with, is that Mr. Potter and Ms. Greengrass had been moved into married quarters or that one of the two had recently died and was haunting the other. _

_Not only can we report that both teens appear in good health and quite corporeal, but that thanks to an unnamed source close to the Ministry, that Mr. Potter and Ms. Greengrass have become engaged! Owls to both Mr. Potter and his fiancée went unanswered, but we did receive a reply from the bride-to-be's parents, in the form of the following statement:_

_ We are proud to announce the engagement of our eldest daughter, Daphne Elizabeth, to Mr. Potter. While they have not known each other for very long, Mr. Potter has impressed us with his maturity and attitude and his devotion to our daughter, despite his age, we have all the faith that both he and Daphne will act as adults. _

_The statement goes on to give some details as to how these two unlikely lovers became a couple (See article on Page 4), a few details on the ceremony that they are planning. (Page 5) Of note in this statement, the entirety of which can be read on page 2-3, are the accusations made against Draco Malfoy, who the Greengrasses claim is the impetus that brought Mr. Potter together with their daughter._

_ "Were it not for Mr. Draco Malfoy, we may never have gotten to meet Mr. Potter and been able to see for ourselves, just what an extraordinarily fine gentleman he is. We can think of no one better than Mr. Potter for our Daughter and have conveyed those wishes with him."_

The article, and those that accompanied it, made no reference to the bonding, but was as truthful as Harry could have hoped. Not surprisingly, reaction was strong, though not entirely negative. While the idea that a couple as young as this would be getting married was a shock, many thought that Harry and Daphne made a nice pair, even sending congratulatory owls to that effect. Despite all the attention, both good and bad, and the letters (both good and bad), Harry and Daphne had remained unchanged by this. Harry was still panicked about the second task to mind, and Daphne never appeared as if things bothered her. Best of all, it was Draco who had received the brunt of the negative response to the article, thanks to Paul and Maggie's letter, he was made to seem jealous and untrustworthy at the same time. Rumor had it that Lucius had even sent him a rather nasty letter chastising him for giving out information so carelessly.

* * *

Despite the small victory over Draco, nineteen ninety-five did not start as Harry had wanted. First off, there was the matter of the second task, which was scheduled for the end of February. Thanks to a helpful hint from Cedric, Harry now knew how to listen to the egg without ruining his hearing, but as to the crucial matter of surviving an hour underwater...Harry didn't have a clue. Classes were back in session and even though he was exempted from finals, all of his professors expected him to attend classes and complete assignments. As McGonagall had pointed out, it was of little consequence for the other champions to miss classes, as they would be leaving Hogwarts come the end of the year, but Harry still had three and a half more years to go, including both his O.W.L and N.E.W.T exams.

Then there was the issue of Ron. While he had apologized to Hermione, (not for the argument, but for having it in the Great Hall) Ron was still convinced that Viktor was simply using her, and that this was all just an attempt to spy on Harry. A part of Harry had hoped that Hermione would accept Ron's apology, even though he hadn't really admitted guilt in anything of consequence, just so that the three could go back to the way things were before. Of course she didn't, and so Ron was stuck, outcast from their little group, that was slowly growing to involve both Daphne and Tracey.

Daphne, being the more studious of the two, got along with Hermione quicker than Tracey did. Tracey was Daphne's polar opposite, yet at the same time, her twin. Where Daphne had blond, relatively long hair, Tracey's mane was brown and Harry questioned weather she had cut it since she had started Hogwarts, as it came down past her bum. Daphne's eyes were a blue that would either freeze or sparkle depending on her mood, where Tracey's orbs were a light, bright brown, always glimmering with something, usually laughter. Tracey was taller than Daphne, though only by about an inch, and they were both in good physical shape. Where they differed physically, they had much in common in other areas of their lives. Both were the oldest children in their families, Tracey's brother, Maxwell, wouldn't begin Hogwarts for nearly another two years though. Both had academic aspirations that didn't include teaching, as Tracey wanted to get her mastery in experimental charms, and Daphne was interested in archeology and history. But the most interesting thing that Harry noticed, perhaps the most important thing, was that Tracey was the person that Daphne seemed most comfortable around. Even at home, or with her sister, she still seemed a bit guarded.

The tipping point, as far as Harry could see, where the two members of Gryffindor's golden trio, joined forces with the two Slytherin women, was about two weeks before the task. Harry and Hermione had been scouring the Library every night in an attempt to find any means of helping Harry in his task. Book after book of charms, potions, magical inventions of the fourteenth through nineteenth centuries (plus the eleventh and twelfth, but not the thirteenth), but none of them had an answer on how to breathe underwater. On this particular day, Harry and Hermione had taken a seat closer to the door, unlike Hermione's usual place, which was far in the back, which is why Daphne and Tracey, who had just finished their assignments for Herbology, saw them as they left the library and headed back to Daphne's dorm before dinner.

Since he and Hermione had been having no luck at all, Harry stood up and approached Daphne as she and Tracey were making their way out.

"Hey, Daphne." He interjected during a lull in their conversation.

"Hey, Harry." She replied, sensing that he wanted more than just to greet her. The fiddling with his hands was a dead give away too.

"I was wondering, er, hoping...remember how you gave me the idea to use my broom for the first task?" Daphne nodded, motioning with her eyes that she'd tell the surprised Tracey the entire story later.

"Were you wondering if I might have a brilliant plan to save your hide this time too?" She joked, relaxing Harry as only she could.

"Yeah." He admitted, shoulders slumping a bit. He lead the two Slytherins over to the table he was using, books and rolls of parchment strewn about rather haphazardly. Rifling through a small stack near his chair, Harry pulled out a transcribed copy of the clue and handed it to Daphne, who read it with Tracey looking over her shoulder.

"We know what it means, but we can't seem to find a way to breath underwater for an hour, and I've never been swimming, so it's not like I could just cast warming charms on myself and swim out there." Harry commented as he watched Daphne read the clue.

"How did you come up with that?" Tracey asked. "All it says is 'We cannot sing above the ground', it doesn't mention water at all."

Harry blushed in embarrassment. He hadn't realized that the clue only made sense if you knew what it took to translate the wailing the egg made above water. Daphne, who was re-reading the poem, answered automatically.

"Well, it makes sense, if you know that the tasks were originally made to be tributes to the four elements, than there is only one body of water large enough to hide four items well enough." She felt, more than saw the three pairs of eyes look stare at her in wonder.

"So you've been looking through all these books for an answer?" Tracey asked.

"Those and a lot more." Harry answered.

Daphne handed the clue back and shook her head. "I can't think of anything off the top of my head." She admitted. Both Gryffindors shrunk at the news, Harry had really hoped that she might have an answer. Tracey just grinned.

"Have you looked trough The Standard Book of Spells Grade 7?" She asked. "There's one in there, the Bubble-Head charm, that'd do the job!" The response was not one that she had expected. Hermione Granger slammed her head to the desk in disappointment muttering "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." to herself, while Harry just looked shocked, although if it was at his oversight, or Hermione's behavior, no one was sure.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the four students were braving the cold down by the lake and reviewing the incantation one more time before Harry would try out the Bubble-head charm for the first time. The idea being that once he perfected it, he could try it out by dunking his head in the lake. Hermione had been reading and rereading the directions to him, and Tracey, who was just as good at charms as Hermione, was joking that between the three of them, they could fix whatever he screwed up.

"Right." Harry steadied himself, before beginning the spell. "Here goes nothing."

Speaking the incantation and doing the wand movements as best he could, Harry ended by pointing his wand at his face. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then, he noticed that there was a slight distortion around Hermione and Daphne, as if he were looking through a bubble, or through water. But their faces, which were caught between fear and laughter, were clear as day.

"Harry, end the spell!" Hermione ordered, panic evident in her voice. Not understanding why she was so afraid, Harry turned around and looked at his reflection in the water. Staring back at him, was, what could best be described as a caricature. His head had expanded to at least three times it's normal size and seemed to not wish to stop. Quickly turning his wand back to himself, Harry hurriedly yelled "Finite", though he sounded quite similar to Professor Flitwick as he did so. Quickly his head began to shrink and within a couple of seconds it was back to it's usual size.

"I don't understand!" Hermione said as she let out her breath and returned to The Standard Book of Spells. "You said the incantation correctly, and the wand movements were good! What happened?"

"Were you concentrating properly?" Tracey asked, her inquisitiveness kicking into high gear. "You have to imagine a bubble of air forming around your head, or mouth, whichever you prefer, but you have to concentrate."

Harry tried again, concentrating harder this time, on a bubble of air that surrounded his head. Unfortunately he had the same problem as before. They continued to try, without success until the rapidly falling temperature forced them to return to the warmth of the castle. Neither Hermione or Tracey had any idea why Harry couldn't perform the charm, and Daphne had been quiet during the entire process, allowing the more vocal members of this impromptu group argue and bicker amongst themselves. Hermione thought it must be a concentration problem, as his wand movements were fine, while Tracey wasn't as sure, as both she and Hermione had been able to properly complete the charm when they tried. She had suggested that they go to Flitwick, but Harry declined, both out of annoyance at his own performance and his morals. The four split in the Great Hall, Tracey heading back to the Slytherin dorms, while Hermione wanted to run back to the library to cram some last minute research in before Madam Pince closed up for the night.

Harry and Daphne returned to their own dorms, the mood pensive and quiet. Upon entering, Daphne immediately went over to the small stove and put on a kettle for some tea, to help fight the chill in their bones. Harry crashed in front of the fire and just stared into the flickering light. He liked to think of himself as good with charms. Not on the level of Hermione or Tracey, but good enough. He had perfected the Patronus charm, and summoning charm after all, and he didn't expect to get the new spell right the first time, but he'd also never inflated his own head. Aunt Marge's, sure, but not his own.

"I'm sure you'll get if eventually." Daphne offered. "But I don't know...I mean, maybe you should keep looking for another way, just in case." She came around from his left and handed him a cup with hot tea, a squeeze of lemon and two sugars, just the way he liked it...not that he could remember ever telling her that.

"Thanks." He said, raising his cup. "For the tea...and the advice. I'm just a bit-"

"Frustrated?" Daphne supplied, taking a seat next to him and lifting her own cup.

"I was going to say pissed off, but yeah, frustrated." Harry grinned. "I know I don't concentrate the best, but I can do the Patronus charm, and summoning, and those take a lot more concentration than the bubble-head charm, so why can't I do this?"

"I don't think it's your concentration." Daphne answer, sipping her beverage. Harry looked up inquisitively. Daphne blushed as if she'd said something wrong. "I mean, you looked really focused out there." She covered.

They sat their, together, just staring into the flames or talking about random things, the tournament forgotten for now, until they decided to go to sleep. It was the most relaxing sleep that Harry would get until after the second task.

* * *

Despite Daphne's confidence, Harry never did manage the bubble-head charm. Every time he tried, he just ended up creating a buoy out of his head. Daphne had joined him in the library, trying to find a different method, while Tracey and Hermione continued to help, though they felt his best chance lay in the bubble-head charm, and so they spent a lot of time trying to discern why Harry couldn't perform it correctly. Time marched on and on and all too soon, February 23rd arrived. The four friends were still in the library as nine thirty approached, and Madam Pince was making her rounds to shoo out any lingering students. So it was a bit of a surprise when the adult sized shadow that blocked out their light turned out to be Professor McGonagall instead of the strict librarian.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your research." She began, "But Professor Dumbledore requires a word with Ms. Granger and Ms. Greengrass." Harry felt a surge of panic rise up within him. He needed them! Dumbledore couldn't possibly have more need of them they he did! Without Hermione or Daphne, Harry doubted he could find a solution to his dilemma. Looking up, Harry noticed something. Daphne's face, which a moment ago had been etched in concentration, flashed, just for an instant, panic. Her eyes dilated, the blood drained from her cheeks and her skin became more pallid than usual. But then it was gone, her wide blue eyes hardened into ice and she almost instantly closed herself off. Hermione, seeing the fear on Harry's face, tried to reassure him.

"Don't worry Harry, just take what you can back to your dorm and we'll hit them again when we get back." She and Daphne were quickly lead away from the Library, leaving Harry and Tracey alone. At first, Harry felt lost, but Tracey's hurried gathering of their research materials jostled him to action.

"Don't worry about them." The brunette said, piling a fourth book onto a growing pile before her.

"What if they're in trouble for helping me? I'm supposed to do this on my own!" Harry questioned, panic still evident in his voice.

"Then she would have taken me with them." Tracey answered as if that settled it. Which it kind of did, since Harry decided to follow her lead and quickly reached for his own stack of literature. Back in Harry and Daphne's dorm, the pair continued to pour over everything they had, reading and rereading articles, books and accounts. By eleven Tracey had to run back to the Slytherin dorms, as Snape took sneaking out at night very seriously, and by two in the morning, Harry had fallen asleep in front of the fire, without seeing anyone else and without a way to survive the lake.

* * *

Being awakened by Dobby, was officially Harry's least favorite way of starting the day. While he was thankful that the elf had provided the answer to his surviving problem, in the form of Gillyweed, he still needed to run through the castle, which thankfully was empty, and out to the lake. He arrived with only a minute to spare and was quickly ushered onto a platform at the edge of the lake, where he immediately felt stupid for being in the clothes he had fallen asleep in the night prior, as opposed to everyone else, who seemed to be in something more akin to a swim suit. Harry caught Dumbledore's eyes and the headmaster just smiled and waved back encouragingly.

"Mr. Potter, so good to see you made it!" Ludo Bagman roughly clasped his hand on Harry shoulder and with a wave of his wand, transfigured the robes into a suit almost identical to the other Champions. "Now, if you need anything-" he began to whisper into Harry's ear, before being cut off by the teen, who reassured the former beater than he had things under control.

At the sound of the starting whistle, Harry jammed the Gillyweed into his mouth and his glasses into his pocket, before plunging into the lake. For the first few seconds, all he could feel was the shocking cold water as it surrounded him. The frigid water on his skin left him with a burning sensation that quickly turned to a pleasant warmth as the Gillyweed took effect. The next thing he noticed was a difficulty breathing as gills began to appear on the sides of his neck, forcing him to plunge beneath the dark water, which with his new specialized eyesight, wasn't so dark anymore. After a couple of deep breaths to acclimate to his gills, Harry frog kicked forward and moved deeper into the lake, noting all sorts of rocks, weeds, and the occasional school book.

He was making a bee line for the center of the lake, when he came upon a forest of grass. Swimming above the potential entanglements, Harry saw, from the corner of his vision, Fleur Delacour being attacked by a group of grindylow. Harry quickly swam over and pulling out his wand tried to cast the revulsion jinx, but the only thing that came out of his mouth were a stream of bubbles. Without being fazed, Harry swam right up to the French woman and managed to punch a grindylow off of her legs, allowing her a little bit of room to try and position herself. Unfortunately more of the water demons began to appear around them. Harry once more tried his wand, and noticed that Fleur was doing the same, but while his was issuing jets of boiling water, which was quickly discouraging the small creatures, the Beauxbatons champion was having no such luck. She was quickly becoming overwhelmed and as Harry began to fire at them, he saw one of them reach up and grab for Fleur's neck.

Reacting as fast as his quidditch trained reflexes would allow, Harry continued to fire boiling water at the mass of grindylow that were holding Fleur's feet down, and reached out and grasped the long, bony fingers of the grindylow. Like Professor had told him last year, grindylow had good grip strength, but their hands were brittle, and when Harry curled his fist around the outstretched digits and he could feel the bones in his grasp break and the grindylow tried to pull its arm away. As he let the demon go, another tried to reach up, but Harry was able to smack its hand away before firing a hot water blast right between its eyes. A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder, and Harry spun around and was about to fire at the offending limb, but found that it had been Fleur who had reached out for him in a moment of panic, as a grindylow had sneaked up on her from behind and had a grip on her throat. Before his eyes, the bubble of air that covered the witch's mouth popped, leaving her almost a hundred feet below the surface of the lake with limited oxygen.

In a fit of rage, Harry raised his wand and blasted the offending demon off his fellow champion, before he wrapped his arm around Fleur and aimed his kicked away from the demons. Using the jets of water from his wand as extra propulsion, they were able to get away, but still far beneath the surface of the water. Harry did the first thing he could think of to help Fleur, and concentrated to the point of giving him a headache, before pointing his wand at the blond and casting the bubble-head charm. This time it worked perfectly and a bubble of pure air formed around her mouth. (He could hear Hermione's voice in his head right now, 'Oh Harry, I knew you could do it, you just needed deadly motivation!) She gulped down air and relaxed somewhat, but she was still kicked up from the grindylow and after conveying that she was alright, began to swim towards the surface, unable to continue.

The rest of his journey to the lake floor was far less interesting and as he came out over a steep drop off, he got his first glimpse of the Mermish village. It reminded him of the depictions that muggles had of Atlantis, with stone buildings and columns all around. In the center of the village was a clearing with four figures floating above a gathering of Merpeople. As he pulled closer, Harry recognized three of them, Daphne, Hermione and Cho Chang, but the fourth was unknown to him, though by physical appearance alone, she had to be a relative of Fleur.

Even after Dobby had told him that Daphne had been taken as his hostage, ("Harry Potter has to save his Greeny!") it still caused anger to well up inside him. Seeing that all four seemed to be asleep, or at least unconscious, Harry felt his anxiety receded a little, and guessing that he still had twenty minutes before the time limit, he picked up a rather jagged rock from the bottom and cut the grass ropes that held Daphne tethered to the bottom. He held her on his shoulder, but didn't swim toward the surface just yet. He wanted to make sure that the other champions made it here and that his friends were safe.

Despite the gesturing of the Merpeople, almost ordering him away from them, Harry stood, that is, floated his ground and remained. From the edge of his vision, Harry noticed a human form, Cedric, appear and swim over to Cho. As he passed, Harry's eyes met Cedric's and found a measure of respect in the older boy's gaze. Apparently he hadn't thought that a brash and impulsive Gryffindor would stay with the hostages and make sure that they were all safe. Cedric cut his girlfriend loose and as he swam towards the surface, paused and looked back at Harry. Seeing the hesitance, Harry waved Cedric on, and received a nod in response before loosing sight of the Hufflepuff in the refracted light beaming down through the water.

Just as Cedric disappeared from view, a new presence swam into the center of town, this one much more alien than anything Harry had seen today. Viktor had managed to transform himself into a shark, but only partly, as he still had human limbs, as well as hair. As he headed towards Hermione, he opened his mouth, displaying row upon rows of razor sharp, needle pointed teeth. Fearing for his friends legs, as well as her life, Harry swam over and offered his rock, which Viktor bashfully took. If sharks can be bashful, that is.

As the Durmstrang champion swam off, Harry felt a chill roll through his body, there was only one hostage left, and he had no idea if Fleur had decided to continue on. A second chill struck him, and he rubbed his hands together to try and warm them up. As he looked down, he noticed that the webbing between his fingers, which had grown along with his gills, were beginning to shrink, indicating the Gillyweed was working its way out of his system. Not seeing any sign of Fleur, Harry reached down for the rock that Viktor had dropped and swam over to the small girl, who greatly resembled the Beauxbatons champion.

His progress was halted by two burly mermen, armed with spears. He tried to speak, to plead with them, but again, all he could seem to emit were bubbles and the mermen around him didn't seem to understand that he was going to take the girl with him, come hell or high water. As another chill raced through him, Harry's panic and anger rose. He was running out of time and needed to get both Daphne and this girl to the surface soon! Gesturing madly, Harry once more tired to convey his intentions, but once again the mermen blocked him. To compound his discomfort with the temperature, Harry's vision was beginning to loose the sharp focus it had gained underwater.

The dwindling time, coupled with the mermen's resilience was causing Harry's anger to rise to levels he had previously reserved for Uncle Vernon and Dudley. He tried once more to negotiate, but this time one of the mermen pointed his spear at Harry and threateningly gestured at him. That was Harry's limit and he raised his hands and began to yell and scream at the pair. Instead of giving in or responding with force, the only two reactions Harry knew of to being yelled at, the mermen seemed to frighten and back away, pointing over Harry's shoulder. As a pair of fists began to pound into his chest, Harry realized that they were pointing at his shoulder, or rather Daphne, who had just awoken.

Harry didn't panic at all, he dashed forward and deftly cut the small girl free, noting that she was still asleep, and motoring towards the surface. The closer Harry got, the more he felt the chill of the lake and the lack of oxygen as his gills disappeared. After Daphne's first couple of punches, the panic of her situation had set in and she began to thrash around, slowing Harry down, but with the surface in sight, he had hopes of making it without much more trouble. But with about thirty feet left, Daphne's thrashing slowed and then stopped, the surface still seemed so far away. So Harry did the only thing he could thing of in such a desperate situation.

He kissed her.

Using the majority of his last breath of gill gifted air, Harry breathed some life into Daphne, whose eyes were only barely opened, but when his lips met hers, and his air hit her lungs, they snapped opened in shock. Their lips were still locked together when all three heads crested over the still surface of the lake. At first their was no noise at all, and the sunlight blinded Harry, but quickly the sound of roaring applause echoed over Hogwart's Lake and Daphne's beautiful face swam into view. As Harry's lips departed Daphne's, unseen hands grabbed the three bodies and hauled them onto the platform that one hour ago, Harry had jumped off of.

The first person to come between the engaged couple was Madam Pomfrey, who quickly threw charmed blankets over their shoulders and began to wave her wand around Daphne and pull down her eye lids to stare into those blue orbs. The next thing Harry knew Hermione had tackled him to the ground and was half heartedly wailing on him, calling him a 'pig-headed, self-sacrificing, thick-skulled, brave, brave boy' before she explained that the hostages were never in any danger and the time limit was just for motivation.

"But then why did Daphne wake up at the bottom?" Harry asked, looking over at her, as the nurse continued to inspect her.

"She woke up!" Hermione asked urgently. Confusion sprouted on her face. "Professor Dumbledore put all of us in an enchanted sleep, it shouldn't have been possible for anyone to wake up until we were above the water's surface."

Before Harry could talk with Daphne, he was pulled away, along with the other champions, for their scores. For his 'outstanding moral fortitude' he was given forty-five points, which combined with his score from the first task, had him tied for first, with Cedric. The party in Gryffindor that night would be epic, but all Harry wanted to do was make sure that Daphne was alright, but all he could see was her back as she was lead by Madam Pomfrey back towards the castle. He would have ran after her, but Fred and George had intercepted him and carried him back to the tower.

Despite his best attempts, Harry wasn't able to get away from the Gryffindors until diner time. He wanted...no, needed to speak with Daphne, and he entered their shared dorms with the stealth of a rampaging bull. The scene before him would have been a welcome relief if it didn't scare him so much. Daphne was sitting before the fire, her head bowed and Tracey was trying to comfort her, rubbing her back and leaning down to whisper reinforcement. They both looked up when Harry had stormed in and a congratulatory smirk appeared on Tracey's face, while a mix of relief and fear appeared on Daphne's. At least until her eyes became cold once more and she closed herself off.

"Congratulations, Potter." Tracey said, standing up from her seat on the couch. "Fool-hearty, but a good job none the less."She walked over the kitchen table and picked up her bag, before backing towards the still open door, a conspiratorial smirk on her face. "I'll leave you two alone, in case you feel the need to give each other CPR again."

Once Tracey, and her good mood, left, all that remained were Harry, Daphne and the elephant in the room.

"Are you alright?" He started. Daphne nodded and sat back down. Maneuvering himself beside her, Harry sat down and looked at her as her head once more lowered in shame. "I'm glad. I don't know how Dumbledore screwed up, but I'm glad that you're alright." Harry made to reach around her and hug her to him, but she flinched and shrugged away from his touch.

"He didn't screw up." Her response was so soft that Harry wasn't sure he heard it properly.

"I don't-"

"He didn't screw up, I'm the one that..." She fell apart before him, the Ice Queen, the most self-sufficient woman he knew of, began to cry. This time she didn't shy from his embrace and they just sat, heads bowed to each other until Daphne's tears dried up and she regained control of herself.

"I'm a freak, Harry. Even among wizards and witches, I'm different and that's why I woke up today."

"You're not a freak, you're caring and smart and your beautiful, but you're not a freak and anyone who told you otherwise is dead wrong." Harry didn't know what was causing this change in Daphne, but he wanted to help her, to comfort her.

"Yes I am, I'm a freak-" She started but Harry cut her off.

"Stop! You are not a freak!"

"Yes, I am!"

"No, you are most certainly not!"

Throughout their exchange, the atmosphere between them became more tense, every time Daphne would demean herself, Harry would contradict her with more and more force until they were almost yelling at each other.

"No, you're not!"

"Yes I am!" stood up and Daphne followed his lead.

"Stop saying that!" He yelled, his anger growing to match hers.

"I am, I am a freak!"

"You are not-"

"Yes I am! I can feel other peoples emotions and it takes control of me!" She yelled, glaring into his eyes. "Their feelings, their drives, their wants and needs, they take me over and they become mine! I can't stop it, only control it, and even then only sometimes!"

By the end she was yelling, panting and crying. She had told him, something she had never wanted to do. She had been ashamed of this ability, ever since she realized she had it. It was a curse, anathema, a plague that she never wanted to speak of, never think about, but was reminded of every time she let her guard down, something she was doing more and more around Harry. For his part, Harry was shocked by her proclamation. He didn't know she had such an ability, but he certainly didn't think any less of her for it. His hands had been grasping her as they argued, but now they moved to her back as he pulled her into himself.

"You're not a freak." He said calmly. "So you have this ability, so what? I don't hate you, I certainly don't think you're a freak."

"Just different." Daphne supplied, calming down as Harry's arms held her tightly.

"That's not a bad thing!" Harry whispered. "I'm as different too, it's all about how you compare yourself. You're much smarter than I am, you get better grades, you have a family that doesn't view you as a nuisance and that loves you. You are very different than me and that's a good thing." He emphasized his last sentence as he felt Daphne relax into him. "Difference isn't a bad thing, it's the things that make you...you."

They slid back down to the couch and just sat there while they composed their thoughts.

"Can you really accept this? Accept me?" Daphne asked. "It means that I will always know how you're feeling, know when you're lying." Harry smiled.

"I didn't have a lot of plans on lying to you." He joked. "And if it's you who's inside my head, I don't think I'll mind." Daphne laughed and smiled at him, a bright, honest to goodness smile that lit up her entire face. Those eyes that before might have glowed with an icy light that kept him at bay, now held nothing but warmth.

"Thank you, Harry. I should have known that you wouldn't judge me, you care far more for others than yourself, that much has been clear to me ever since November. I was just afraid that you might not like the idea of having a girlfriend who was able to read you like a book."

"It'll be interesting." Harry replied, taking her hand in his. "But I'll have to get used to it, won't I?" Daphne smiled at his honesty.

"So," he began "how did this begin? This whole, emotion-reader, thing."

"It's a bit of a long story, you sure you want to hear it?" Daphne asked, smile still on her face.

"I've got nothing planned, and we can always have food delivered, so why not?"

"Well, it began on our way to Platform 9 and ¾s before our first year..."

* * *

**(A/N: Wow, that got long on me! Hopefully no one minds, and hopefully everyone likes it, I didn't intend to go into so much detail about the second task, but then it became more and more important, so I kept going. **

**For my first order of business, it has been brought to my attention that I could really use the services of a Beta, and if anyone would like to volunteer, or knows a good Beta who has good grammar skills, I would be thankful for your help.**

**Anyway, I hope Daphne's ability goes over well, it's something that I've been thinking about for a while, and if anyone's ever read/seen Red Dragon, she is an eideteker. I will explain it further as the story progresses, but for now, I think that's an adequate summary.**

**Thank you for all your great reviews, I love to get them. Please keep them coming!)**


	6. Chapter 6

Names are fascinating things. Not first names so much, but last names, they are extraordinarily interesting. The history of surnames begins when early humans began to gather in groups that were so large that the limited number of first names simply couldn't denote everyone in the population. Imagine the conversations that early mothers must have had. _"Me son Ug, he kill deer." "Good him! Me son, Og, he kill three squirrel!" "WHAAAAA!" "Me got go, me son Ogg need change."_ Very dull and once you had more than about two or three Ug's or Og's or Olaf's or Ann's, you really need a way to distinguish between them. Thus, early surnames were mere descriptors of a person, or a common trait that members of a family shared. The Blacks are an excellent example of this, as no matter what the hair color of the person marrying into the family, the offspring will always have black or dark brown hair. Then came the families associated with a particular profession. For generations, the Potters had been associated with fine earthenware, though not always in the production of it, the majority of their wealth in the last two or three centuries has been from supplying and trading their products.

As populations grew, descriptions and professions failed to suffice, and so regional association was brought into the equation. Leonardo Da Vinci is, quite literally, Leonardo from Vinci. But even this hasn't been enough. Someone named William Fife, could either be the decedent of fife players, or hail from that region of Scotland. Then there are families like the Greengrass family. They've never been associated with one job or one location, and there aren't too many similarities between the various members. So how did they get their name?

Through history, members of the family now called Greengrass have moved around a lot, doing things as they needed or wanted and picking up and moving when circumstances were optimal or required. The one thing that united the members in those early years was that they were generally not well liked by their neighbors. For various reasons, ranging from murder to failure to shake hands with someone. Now, because this was so long ago, basic hygiene was not even a though in people's minds, and so when one member of this oft cursed family died, one of the first things their enemies did in celebration was march over to the cemetery and stomp on the fresh grave, spitting and cursing as was appropriate for the situation. Because the feet of these malcontents were often covered in various animal feces, which acted as a wonderful fertilizer, they were often the only graves to have constantly green, healthy grass covering them. Even through all but the most severe droughts, the saliva of passers-by kept lush grass growing, while other graves were reduced to patches of dust. Hence their surname came about in a manner such as this; _"Did you hear? Walter succumbed to the consumption?" "Oh, how sad. Where ever shall I sell my wool now?" "Oh no, not that Walter, the one from the family with green grass on their graves." "Oh. That Walter. Good riddance!"_

* * *

"I can remember, very clearly, how I felt the night before I left for Hogwarts the first time." Daphne started, her head up, but eyes not truly meeting Harry's as the firelight danced across their bodies. "I was proud. At the time I didn't think much of it, Hogwarts is the best school of Magic in all of Great Britain and arguably the greatest in the world, why wouldn't I be proud of being accepted to such a renowned school?" He voice was hollow and bitter and Harry didn't see why. Surly, empathy, or what he thought was empathy, was a gift in every sense of the word, not a curse, not these shackles that made Daphne kill her emotions just to be able to attend breakfast? "All that morning, all I felt was pride, I was proud that I was growing up, that I was taking the next step on the road of life, pride...I should have suspected that something wasn't right when I didn't feel a little bit nervous or excited. Just pride."

Harry could remember his own emotions as he left his Aunt and Uncle's house for the first time. The freedom, the excitement, and then the nerves when he couldn't find the platform and as he waited to be sorted. The fear that he would be sent back...he recalled Ron being anxious and Hermione was so nervous that she had been reciting spells, a habit of hers that signified that she was under great distress. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to not feel any of that.

And found that he couldn't. He tired very hard, to imagine himself, as an eleven year old, walking into the doors of Hogwarts with his small chest puffed out in arrogance, or with his head held high in knowing that he was among peers. Despite his reputation for bravery and rushing into things, he had always been...unsure. It was just who he was, who he had always known himself to be. And as Daphne continued on, he slowly began to understand her fear.

"Then, when I got on the train," she continued, "and Tracey sat down with me, I suddenly became very excited and just full of energy!" As Daphne transitioned between scenes, her posture and body shifted to match. Meeting Tracey was a happy memory, and so Daphne sat up straighter, her forehead relaxed, unfurling her brow as she relaxed. Her shoulders slumped as her muscles relaxed and her lips drew into a tiny smile. "I had never met Tracey and I just assumed I was excited to meet someone new, of course, now I know that's just how Tracey is, but at the time, my quick transition between emotions didn't seem strange to me." She paused for a moment, to catch her breath and clear her mind, as her cadence had risen with her emotions.

"We hit it off pretty quickly, and so we stuck together for the entire train ride. We got pretty lucky, no one else came in the compartment, except for the snack lady, so she was the only person I had any kind of sustained contact with before we got to the school. The moment we walked into the Great Hall...that was when I noticed it. All this energy I had going in...it just vanished. Instead I started to feel anxious and then annoyed. I though it was just because I wasn't used to being the center of so much attention, but even after we got sorted I still felt it, it diminished as we split to go to our dorms, but even then I felt like I was running around, jumping from emotion to emotion. It got to the point that I almost had a panic attack in the common room, and only Tracey seemed to notice that something was wrong with me, of course she didn't know what I was going through, but she took me aside and got me to sit down, and somehow that got me through the first night. But during classes and lunch, I would get the same feelings, and when we were alone, it was her enthusiasm and energy I felt."

Harry couldn't identify his own feelings as this point, but he recognized just how tough it was for Daphne to be able to tell him this. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Daphne's shoulders and puller her into a hug. Upon contact, Daphne seized up and Harry quickly loosened his grip, allowing her to pull back, but to his surprise, she didn't, instead, she reached her own arms up and embraced him in return.

"Sorry," She said, her head on his shoulder. "I was just...Tracey wouldn't have have liked that too much." She felt Harry frown in confusion. "It took me a moment to get out of Tracey's head. I like this...very much."

This was unfamiliar territory for Daphne. It had been Dumbledore that had 'diagnosed' Daphne's 'problem', but it hadn't been until after Daphne had literally collapsed. He had told her parents, who had told Astoria. The only other person who knew was Tracey, but that seemed so much simpler than this. Tell someone you've known for a couple of months that you're a freak, hard, but nowhere near the level of telling the man that would be your husband that even amongst people with the ability to turn animals into drinking ware, you were different...it frightened her more than anything. Harry meant that much to her, if he hated her, she didn't know how she'd respond. But the strength she felt from his simple gesture...it urged her to finish, he had to know the whole story. So she released her grip and slowly pulled back, looking into Harry's brilliant green eyes for the first time since...well, since he'd kissed her, underwater in the Black Lake.

"While Tracey was here, I was fine when it was just the two of us. All the issues I had when I was in class or the Great Hall, they went away when I was with her. But just before Halloween, her Grandmother died, and she was allowed to leave school to mourn with her family. Without her energy and mirth...I was being bombarded with different people's feelings and I I couldn't deal with it."

At this point, Harry got a very uneasy feeling. He'd never been allowed to watch too much television at the Dursley's, but the phrase 'I couldn't deal with it', wasn't often used before something good.

"Halloween night, when Professor Quirrell ran in and yelled that there was a troll in the school, everyone panicked...and all that fear just hit me. In the confusion of everyone running out, instead of going back to the dorms..I ran out of the castle."

"Not into the forest?" Harry asked. Daphne just nodded.

"I just ran until all the fear stopped. Until I all the pressure in my head lessened and I could think. Of course, then I realized where I was, and the fear came back, but at least it was my own this time. I spent the night trying to find my way back, but just wound up becoming more lost. It wasn't until early the next morning that Professor Snape found me. It wasn't until I tried to explain why I ran off that he realized something was wrong with me. When Madam Pomfrey couldn't find anything medically wrong, they called the Headmaster."

This time When Harry wrapped his arms around her, she just leaned into him. She had said what she wanted to, and he had nothing but questions, though now was not the time for them. For a time neither said anything and were content to simply pass time before the fire, holding each other and sharing strength. It wasn't until Harry felt Daphne's breathing become shallow and soft snores began to issue from her, that he realized just how draining her story was retell. The warmth of the fire, along with the slight weight of Daphne on his shoulders was just too much for Harry to resist and within moments, he joined Daphne in the world of slumber.

* * *

Unlike the first task, the attention that followed the champions after their performances was shared with the hostages. Harry and Daphne were the butt of many a kissing joke, as well as sharing one set of lungs, but the teasing they got was nothing compared to what Hermione received. Rita Skeeter had published an article the day after the task, claiming that Hermione was using love potion to gain Viktor Krum's affections. The response was not pretty. Hermione received not only nasty letters, but ones that were booby-trapped with various hexes, curses and one that required her to go to the Hospital wing for treatment. Perhaps then, it is understandable, if not predictable, that Hermione wouldn't take this lightly.

But three weeks of long nights researching magical methods of eavesdropping, and she was no closer than she had been at the start of her mission. She had originally been looking for a legal avenue by which she could ruin Rita Skeeter life...or stop her...that's it. Stop her. But she quickly ran into a major roadblock. It was a law, just more than four hundred year old, that protected the Press from libel when two or more witnesses had the "same story". It was a Saturday afternoon, and Hermione had been in the Library since just after breakfast and she had exhausted all of her resources on the law. Well, all except for one, and that resource had just walked through the doorway. Picking up her supplies, Hermione walked over to the table that Tracey had just sat down at, and setting her copy of When it's Okay to Call Someone's Mother a Wart-Faced-She-Devil, and When you Might Wish to Use More Sense, on top of some of the books that were strewn about the table and quickly asked for Tracey's knowledge on the subject. In doing so, Hermione had learned two two things. One, Tracey didn't like it when people came to her with legal questions, just because her Father was a prosecutor. Secondly, the law that Hermione was researching, properly titled 'The Law Governing Who can Sue You if You are Lying About them, and Who Can't' was more commonly known as The Greengrass act. Of course, now Hermione had to know why it was called that, and so she ran to Harry and Daphne's quarters to find out, leaving Tracey sitting in the library as Daphne and Harry returned from gathering a book on Astronomy that they needed for a paper.

"Was that Hermione?" Harry asked, pulling out a chair for Daphne.

"Yeah, she had a question." Tracey said, nonchalantly, internally she was torn between wanting Hermione to return quickly and hoping that it took the Gryffindor a couple of hours to realize that Daphne was in the Library. What Hermione also hadn't realized was that Tracey had only left the Library in the first place to use the facilities, and had only been gone for about five minutes.

"So," Tracey turned to her best friend and her boyfriend, a conspiratorial grin etched on her face. "mind telling my why it took you five minutes to find one book from the next shelf?"

Harry and Daphne just blushed and refused to make eye contact with Tracey.

* * *

An hour and a half later, an equally annoyed and sheepish Hermione returned to the Library. When she spotted Daphne, she rushed over and threw herself into a chair across from the blond.

"Daphne! I've been looking for you, see, I was researching a way to get back at Skeeter, but I kept running into this law from 1590 and I was hoping that you might be able to help me understand it."

Daphne looked up to Harry, as if to ask, 'is she always like this?' To which the silent reply was 'usually.'

"So why would I know about a law from 1590?" Daphne asked, looking up from her assignment, only to have a book shoved in her face. "The Law Governing Who can Sue You if You are Lying About them, and Who Can't?"

"Tracey said that it was known as the Greengrass act." Hermione supplied, anticipation almost dripping from her voice.

"And you just _assumed_ that because because we have the same last name, whoever this law was named after was a relative of mine, _and furthermore_, that I'd know this person or why they have a law named after them?"

This effectively took the wind out of Hermione's sails, and the blush that rapidly grew on her cheeks certainly didn't help her regain her momentum. It wasn't until Harry started to laugh at the stupid look on his oldest friend's face. He was quickly joined by Tracey and Daphne, and they were forced to fight a difficult battle to limit the volume of their cheer. Hermione, realizing that the rug had been pulled from beneath her, reached over and lightly slapped Harry in his arm, causing him to stop laughing, but making Daphne and Tracey pound their fists on the tabletop in glee.

"Hey! What's the idea?" He asked, mock hurt tinging his voice.

"That's for laughing at me!" Hermione responded, giving a small huff of annoyance and turning her shoulder from Harry.

"Yeah Potter, it's not nice to laugh at people!" Tracey managed between laughs. This time it was Harry's turn to be on the receiving end of the laughter. After a few more minutes of laughter, during which everyone at the table took turns laughing at the other three, and a rather stern glare from Madam Pince, the quartet quieted down and Daphne was able to give Hermione's question a serious answer.

"It's called the Greengrass law, because an ancestor of mine was the one that introduced the bill."

"But why?" Hermione asked. "It makes it so easy to lie about people and get away with it." Daphne just shrugged. "Wouldn't be able to tell you. What I will tell you, is that if you're looking for a legal way to get back at Rita, it's a waste of time. The Prophet has the best legal team of any company in Great Britain. If you want to beat them, you'll have to do it another way."

At first Hermione looked crestfallen, but then something changed in her. Daphne was right, if she was going to go after a mud slinger like Rita Skeeter, she'd have to get a bit dirty if she wanted to get even, let alone come out ahead.

* * *

Weeks became months and sooner than he had ever though possible, Harry found himself faced with the end of the tournament. There was just a little more than a month left before the final task, and Harry's anxiety increased with the temperature. As Sirius had pointed out, if someone had entered the tournament with the intent to kill him, this was their last chance. He had been training as much as he could, with Hermione, Daphne and even Tracey at times. He was learning so many spells in such a short period of time, that he was almost beginning to believe he might have a good chance at winning the tournament, not just surviving it. With every spell he mastered, Hermione breathed a little bit easier, and Tracey became just a bit more amazed in the boy who had stolen her best friends heart, but to Daphne, something was off.

Take the Impediment Jinx, it was supposed to slow the target down, and Harry picked it up easily enough, but within the hour, the items he was jinxing were almost stopping still. It was almost as if he were going beyond the nature of the spell. For most wizards and witches, they either had to live with the limitations of existing spells, or create new ones. Harry didn't seem to suffer those limitations, and Daphne became fixated on how he was able to do these things. Was this something she could learn or was it unique to Harry? She had a couple theories, but that was all they were at this point. Just over a year from now, following a rather harrowing trip to the Ministry of Magic and a confrontation with the Dark Lord, she'd get her answer, but right now, she had no idea, that even in her wildest theories, she was dead wrong.

* * *

**(A/N: Well, sorry this took so long, and I know that this is kind of short, but I got really stuck on the last half of this chapter. Next up will be the third task and well see what comes of that.**

**Please keep up the reviews, the response has been so great for this story that I hope you are still enjoying reading it, even as I struggle to write it.**

**Thanks again!)**


	7. Chapter 7

Combat, much like the rest of life, is an excellent opportunity to learn. In fact, battle may be the greatest opportunity for personal advancement that mankind has ever known. Much of learning is trial and error, not so on the battlefield, as those that point arrows at themselves, forget to wear armor or leave their sword at home, rarely live to correct these problems. In a fight, there are two types of combatants, the inexperienced, doe-eyed, fresh from the academy, low-ranked soldier, whose odds of surviving first combat are depressingly small, and the wily, grizzled old veteran, who has become so disenfranchised that they trust no one as far as they can throw them, which given the amount of time they've spent at war, probably isn't very far anymore.

Now, how does someone, who enters combat the odds on favorite to soil themselves, become Alastor Moody? Instinct. You see, it requires time for the aforementioned pants-soiler to devolve into the type of person who would use said pants as a biological weapon in the heat of battle. So it goes without saying that those who fail to take cover, those who attempt to call a 'time-out', or those who generally think its a good idea to play chicken with a live hand grenade, don't have the instincts for battle. Thus it is those very first instincts in battle that are most telling about a person.

If you can understand them.

* * *

The month between when Harry and Viktor discovered an incoherent Barty Crouch stumbling onto the grounds, to the morning of the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament passed in a blur. The ramblings of the addled and still missing ministry official just seemed to darken the cloud hanging over the tournament for Harry. It also seemed to confirm Sirius and Moody's thoughts that something sinister was moving behind the scenes of the tournament, making tonight's event all the more anxiety inducing.

But despite the nerves and long hours spent cramming new spells into his head, Harry had gotten, or rather been forced into, a good nights sleep, so when the late June sun crept into Harry's face, he found himself nervous, but ready for what lay before him. He took a bit longer in the shower than usual, but he figured that there was no harm in indulging in the warm water, and considering how quickly Fred and George could start a victory party, he might not get the chance to after the task was over. Judging by the sun, Harry figured that he'd spent about forty-five minutes relaxing, and so he hurriedly dressed himself and headed out into the common area. Retrospectively, Harry realized that, ever since they had moved in together, Daphne had been the one supporting him, doing nice things and generally being a wonderful person. Today, he had a surprise for his soon-to-be wife, that he hoped would show that he could do nice things too.

He found her, nose in a book, cramming for her last exam of the year. Of the courses that Harry wasn't taking at Hogwarts, Ancient Runes was definitely not his thing. Daphne and Hermione had tried to explain it to him, tag-teaming him as they diagrammed and wheezed on about the various combinations of runes and how difficult it was to differentiate between the Latin and Greek runes. Harry just couldn't bring himself to care. As much as he disliked Divination, he wasn't exactly rushing to sign up for Arithmancy either. Anyway, Daphne was just sitting at the table, pouring over her Runes book, when Harry came out of his room and simply grabbed her by the arm and proceeded to drag her towards the door.

"Harry!" She yelled. "I need to study for my exam, it's in an hour and-"

"and if you study any more you're head might fall off." Harry interjected. It was true, she'd been reviewing since yesterday. "Besides, you need to eat something, keep your energy up, what good is all the knowledge in the world if you fall asleep taking the test?"

Relenting at the truth he spoke, and finding his protectiveness rather charming, Daphne allowed herself to be dragged off through the hallways to the Great Hall. To her surprise, along with the assortment of students who were filtering in and out, there was a large group of people just standing over by the main doors. There were three with such bright, golden hair that they could only be Fleur's parents, while Gabrielle was excitedly looking between her family and the unfamiliar castle. Viktor's parents were happily catching up with their son, while Cedric and his parents were amicably chatting away. Standing a bit apart from the others, were three people with distinct red hair, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Bill, if Daphne's memory was working properly, she could vaguely recall him helping control the dragons after the first task. Beside them was a rather large black dog, which was just sitting there, patiently, but as soon as it noticed Harry, it stood up and began wagging it's tail excitedly.

But most shocking to Daphne, was that her Father was standing there, next to the Weasley's, apparently waiting for the same thing, or person, that they red-heads were. As they made their way into the throng of people, Harry politely introduced Daphne to the Weasleys, while he reached down and scratched behind the dog's ears, before moving onto the more difficult task of introducing Paul to everyone. Thankfully, Arthur and Bill didn't seem to have the same association of Slytherin and evil that Ron did, and while Molly was clearly a bit suspicious of Paul and Daphne, she was polite enough to not let it ruin the morning for Harry.

"What are you doing here?" Daphne asked her dad once she had a moment.

"I'm just here to support Harry." Paul explained. "Though I must admit, I'm rather shocked that he invited us, the Weasley's I understand, but it's rather nice to get to see him perform in action. I know your mother's looking forward to this as well, she'll be coming as soon as she's done with practice"

Having bother her parents here for support was quite the treat for Daphne, and she hoped that Astoria would be just as surprised as she was. She continued chatting with her father, as well as answering questions from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but soon it was time for her final exam and she had to run off. But before she did, she pulled Harry to the side and gave him a quick hug and thanked him for his surprise. Both Harry and her father, as well as the Weasley's, much to her wonder, wished her luck on her exam before she ran off.

* * *

The remainder of Harry's morning was spent as part tour guide/conversation catalyst. There were quite a few awkward moments of silence between the four adults in his group and they only seemed to truly disappear when one of Harry's friends would join the group. Ginny and Neville joined the group during the morning exam period, with Ginny trying to calmly explain to her mother why Ron wasn't with them, and Neville having a rather awkward conversation with Mr. Weasley, who was not acting in his usual, excitable manner. Ever since the Yule ball, Ginny and Neville had been spending more time together than any of her brothers were really comfortable with, and obviously they had expressed said anxiety with their family.

Just before lunch, Daphne and Hermione returned from the Ancient Runes exam, care free and looking forward to the rest of the day, even if it was going to culminate with the third task. Astoria, who had just finished her potions final, joined them for a hurried lunch, as she still had her Transfiguration final before she could relax. The afternoon was spent mostly outside, the group merely wandering around the grounds, hiking past the Great lake and around the edge of the Quidditch Pitch-turned maze. About three, Daphne and Paul excused themselves and returned to the Castle so that they could collect Astoria and welcome Maggie as a Family. This left Harry alone with the Weasley's and Sirius for the first time today, and the Marauder didn't waste a moment before he transformed back from Snuffles. He looked much better than last year, less gaunt and ghostly, but still rather thin.

"It's good to see you again, kiddo." He warmly greeted. Apparently, he had made some sort of arrangement with the Weasleys, because all of them suddenly found something rather far off in the distance very interesting, and moved a ways off to view it better. "I want you know, first and foremost, just how proud I am, we all are, of you. You've performed so much better than anyone could have hoped for, but you need to remember that this is the last opportunity-"

"For whoever entered me into this thing to get at me. I now." Harry interjected. "We've been preparing extra hard for this task, much more so than for any of the others. I have to say, I feel more prepared for this one, than for either of the others."

"And I'm glad you're prepared and that you feel confident, but I'll feel better once this damned tournament is over and you're on the express safely on your way back." Sirius's smile seemed rather empty, and his eyes never met Harry's, always sweeping the grounds behind his godson. "Look, you know I've been investigating Paul Greengrass." Harry nodded, feeling the conversation shift from partially lighthearted, to deathly serious. "Well, I've been at it ever since you told me about Daphne, and something just not right."

"How so?" Harry asked. He liked Paul Greengrass, the man had never given any indication that he wished harm upon Harry, nor had he ever lied, so far as Harry could tell.

"Well, that's the thing, the man's a contradiction wrapped in a puzzle smothered in an enigma. He does business with muggles and Death Eaters, people either think the world of him or despise him." Sirius ticked items off on his fingers as he went down his mental list of 'Things That aren't quite right about Paul Greengrass.' "For a man who operates in both the magical world and the muggle one, he leaves very little impact on either, in fact, it's almost like he's a ghost. He's here, but he doesn't leave a trace of his presence."

"I don't know, Sirius. I like Paul, he seems like a pretty good guy. Do you have any proof that he'd doing something dark?"

"That's the problem kiddo, the only proof is the absence of proof. Everyone I've ever know has some kind of record with the ministry, a warning for underage magic, or a citation for splinching or something. But Paul doesn't seem to exist on any registry what-so-ever, except the marriage registry. Even his OWL and NEWT scores seem to be non existent." That gave Harry a moment of pause. Who didn't have OWL or NEWT scores? But something in his gut told Harry to trust Paul, and that's what he'd do, for now.

"I'll keep and eye out, but until there's some proof, I trust Paul. I can't explain it, but there's just this feeling, like a whisper in my ear to trust him."

"Well, as long as you keep your eyes peeled, I can't make you do anything." Sirius didn't want to start an argument over this, especially not hours before a potentially fatal event that his underage godson had been forced into competing. So he let it slide, and not a moment too soon, as he spotted Paul and company making their way from the castle. Quickly turning into Padfoot, Sirius would be forced to watch, muted, while many of his worst nightmares played out before him in the coming hours.

* * *

The nerves didn't seem to hit Harry until he sat down for dinner. Sitting with so many people who were nothing but supportive of him, should have been calming, but sitting with his girlfriend, her family, and the Weasley's, Ron included, just seemed to add pressure. About an hour before the task was to begin, Dumbldore stood up and announced that the spectators should begin to head toward the Quidditch Pitch. As everyone wished Harry luck, including a rather hurried kiss from Daphne, the fourth champion noticed that Ron was hanging behind.

"Mate, Harry...I know I haven't been supportive of you, and right arse, but...look, I'm sorry. For everything, accusing you of entering the tournament, for being jealous. For basically being a jerk. Do you think you could forgive me?"

Harry looked over his former best friend. Ron's posture looked liked a kicked dog, and Harry though he might have seen him rubbing his ear, a sure sign of Molly Weasley tongue lashing.

"Your mum yell at you?" Harry asked. Ron just nodded sheepishly, causing Harry to sigh.

"Ron, I'd love to go back to how we were before, but if you need I need to have your mother present to referee us, then I don't know if I can do that." To Harry shock, Ron shook his head rapidly.

"I didn't need Mum to tell me I was wrong, I just needed her yelling at me to realize that every day I wasn't apologizing was another day I was treating you badly. I realized after the first task that you would never enter a tournament where you risked your life every time out, and I was too jealous at the Yule Ball to think straight. This is something I should have done ages ago, and I've no one to blame but myself for why I haven't."

"No offense Ron, but you really loused things up between us. Not only with not believe me, but with Hermione too. You hurt her feelings really badly, and while I'm happy to give you another chance, she might not."

"Does that mean?..."

"Yeah, Ron, I'm willing to give you another chance, but you need to understand that both Hermione and Daphne are important to me now, if you can't handle either of them, than I doubt that we can be friends anymore."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He was back in Harry's good graces, at least for now. If he wanted to stay there, he had work to do, and he thought the best place to start might be by apologizing to Hermione. His father's shout from the Entry Hall broke up the tense conversation he had been having and with a nod of gratitude Ron ran off to join his family.

The Great Hall was suddenly very empty, with only the four champions occupying the massive space and the silence that hung in the air was deathly still. It wasn't for another fifteen minutes that Madame Maxime came and collected the champions. Before Harry knew it, he was standing before a packed stadium, waiting for the signal that would signal the start of the final task. With a deafening bang, Harry and Cedric entered the cavernous maze, quickly parting ways at the first fork. By the time that a second BANG signaled Viktor's entry, Harry had used a rather useful spell that Hermione had discovered, called the 'Four Point' spell, to indicate the shortest route to the center of the maze and had taken another two forks. Five minutes late, when Fleur had entered, Harry had yet to encounter any obstacles other than dead ends and was making great progress to the center.

Rounding another corner, Harry felt the sweat on his skin grow icy cold and clammy, while his head began to swim. Quickly recognizing the effects that Dementors had on him, Harry's right arm shot up, wand extended as the black cloak of the fearsome guard materialized out of the shadows of the maze.

With a cry of "Expecto Patronum!" The silvery, ethereal form of Prongs sprang from the tip of his wand and charged at the approaching Dementor, only for the foul creature to stumble backwards and trip over the hem of its robe. Now, Harry had never seen a Dementor stumble, and if his suspicions weren't already up, when the stadium erupted in laughter at the hapless monster, Harry noticed the being cringe and recoil.

"Boggart, of course, they wouldn't use an actual Dementor." Harry muttered. Recalling the look on Malfoy's face back in their third year, when the blond ponce had tried to intimidate Harry by dressing up as a Dementor, Harry again raised his wand and, in a very commanding voice, destroyed the boggart.

"Riddikulus!"

Making his way past his first obstacle, Harry paused as he saw red sparks appear in the sky. One of the competitors had dropped out. Harry hoped that they weren't injured and turned down a branching path, only to encounter a strange golden mist. Since this fork was the fastest way to the center, Harry just continued on through, though he had to take pause when he suddenly found himself seemingly upside down, while inside the mist. Emerging from the discombobulating mist, Harry wondered if all the obstacles would be this simple. Cedric's scream of agony quickly put an end to that train of thought, and Harry raced toward his fellow champion's aid.

Viktor Krum had his wand trained at Cedric, who had falling to the ground and was writhing in pain. Harry didn't even bother to try and talk to Viktor, he just fired a couple of Stunners at the  
Bulgarian's back, both of which connected, dropping their victim to the ground and releasing the spell on Cedric. Harry rushed over, intentionally stepping on Viktor's wand, resulting in a satisfying snap under his trainer's. Cedric was panting, but trying to sit up when Harry got to him.

"You okay?" Harry asked, grasping the older boy's shoulder. He felt Cedric shudder and shake beneath him.

"I'll be okay, Merlin that hurt!" Cedric managed to get into a sitting position before he was forced to momentarily relent his attempt to stand.

"What did he use?" Harry asked, fearing the worst based on how badly Cedric was shaking.

"Cruciatus." Was the the reply. Harry cursed, catching Cedric off guard.

"I though he was an okay guy." Harry growled in anger, helping Cedric shakily to his feet.

"Thanks mate, don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been here." Cedric took deep breaths of air as if he had just swam the length of the Black Lake. "You should head on ahead." Harry looked at him, disbelief clear on his face. "I'm serious, go on ahead, I'll be alright, I just need a moment."

Harry wasn't convinced. "You sure?" Cedric nodded, a bit more assuredly and reached down to pick his wand up off the ground. "Look, I'll cast the sparks so they can come and get Krum, but if you're still here when I'm done, I'll hex you." Harry wasn't sure if the Hufflepuff was joking or not, but he decided that either way, he was better served by moving on, and so he turned his back to Cedric and ran back into the maze.

Twenty minutes, one sphinx a giant Blast-Ended Skrewt and a nasty gash to his leg, Harry and Cedric stood at the center of the maze, Triwizard Cup gleamed in the near dark before them.

"Together?" Cedric asked.

"Together." Harry insisted. "A Hogwarts victory." They reached out and grasped for the handles of the cup, but the moment their hands touched the gleaming metal, their stomachs were instantly assaulted by the feeling of portkey travel, and the next thing they knew they were slamming into the ground somewhere that clearly wasn't Hogwarts.

* * *

From the stands, students and teachers watched as each Champion faced obstacle after obstacle. When the first red sparks went up, all eyes turned to the prone form of Fleur Dealcour, but no one seemed to know how she had ended up on the ground. Those who were supporting Harry never took their eyes off of him, so while they were very worried about him, they really had no idea just how few obstacles he was encountering. In fact, most eyes in the crowd were split between Viktor and Harry, but when the Durmstrang champion turned his wand on Cedric, everyone gasped. Never in anyone's imagination would a student dare use an unforgivable. Once Cedric was back on his feet everyone breathed a sigh of relief that no permanent damage seemed to be done.

By the end, even the foreign students thought that there was something poetic about Harry and Cedric tying for the title. So when the two reached out and grasped the cup, applause erupted from every corner of the pitch. At first, no one knew what had happened when the two dissapeared and all eyes turned to the judges for the answer. But the shocked expressions on the judges faces just betrayed that even they didn't understand what had happened.

Harry and Cedric, both hampered by injuries, rose to their feet as quickly as they could and took stock of their surroundings. They were on the top of a hill and it appeared to be inside graveyard, but where exactly remained unknown.

"You don't think this is part of the tournament, do you?" Cedric asked, voice devoid of hope.

"I really hope so, but I doubt it."

"You have that sinking feeling too?" Cedric smiled, and without another word, both raised their wands and slowly made their way downhill.

As they approached the bottom, Harry's scar suddenly erupted in pain just as someone in black robes appeared before them. At first glance it appeared to be a rather grotesquely shaped man, but upon closer inspection, a second, much smaller form became noticeable.

"_Kill the spare!_" The voice was icily cold and the larger form raised a wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" Peter Pettigrew's voice preceded the sickly green light raced from the wand, toward Cedric, and Harry, whose instincts had never failed him before, found himself frozen.

And yet, as the deadly spell raced forward, Harry felt his right arm rise, but not by his doing. As it came level, Harry tried to imagine a spell to use, anything that might save Cedric, but nothing came to his blank mind. Still, from his center, a hot and powerful sensation erupted. It traveled from his core outward, until a blue light sped from the tip of his wand_, _directly at Pettigrew's.

The two collided mere inches away from Cedric, and from Harry's perspective, the amalgam of spell fire lanced underneath Cedric's outstretched arm and collided with his chest. The older boy's body flew backward and collided with a protruding headstone and slumped to the ground, unmoving. Harry felt his feet fail him and as he collapsed to the ground, he heard two distinct voices. The first was Peter Pettigrew, conjuring ropes that wound around Harry, binding him. The second seemed to come from both inside Harry and outside at the same time. It was distinct, yet seemed to be echoing throughout his ears, his head, all of his senses.

"_**Finally, you come. He is alive, but because you did not act, he is frozen, only to be awoken when you understand. This is your power, use it wisely."**_

The words bombarded Harry as if he had flown through a flock of bludgers. He was so engrossed on the fading feeling of heat and power inside himself, Harry never heard Pettigrew's stunner.

* * *

Harry stood, knees shaking, as pain lanced from both his leg and arm simultaneously. Pettigrew had cut his elbow to collect blood that had been used to resurrect Voldemort. Now, the Dark Lord stood before him, flanked by dozens of followers and they were to duel to the death. His death, presumably, but then Harry had never been very presumptuous, and despite the pain and shock, he was continuously looking for an opening, some way that he might escape and return to Hogwarts.

"_First we bow. Bow to me, bow to death, Harry Potter!_" And to his horror, Harry felt his spine bend as he bent over in a bow. Before he could think anymore, he was hit with pain unimaginable. Every nerve in his body fired in pain and he was sure he was screaming, but nothing registered but the searing pain. Then, after what felt like hours, the pain began to fade, and as his senses returned, Harry realized that no more than seconds had passed. He was on his hands and knees, gasping for air that he desperately needed, but no amount seemed to help. Voldemort was saying something, but nothing registered. Harry's mind was racing, how could he possibly survive this, how could he get away, how could he win.

Voldemort wasn't talking anymore, and Harry looked up, only to find another spell racing towards him. There was no time to dodge or counter, and as the spell collided with him, Harry felt a felling of euphoria spread throughout his body.

"_Beg." A voice said. Voldemort's voice, but not his physical voice. "Beg for death Harry, beg, and I'll spare your friends."_ The imperius curse. It was far stronger than Moody's had been, yet that small voice spoke up again, from farther away, but it made itself known none the less. _No!_

"_Do it!"_

_Don't!_

"_Obey me!_"

"Never!"

The strength behind Harry's voice shocked everyone in that graveyard. Voldemort seemed shocked, but then happy. As if he respected the strength that Harry had just shown.

"_Then you shall perish. Avada Kedavra!"_

No sooner had the Dark Lord attempted to kill him, Harry rose to his feet and did the first thing that came to his mind.

"Expelliarmus!"

The reaction that the two spells had was spectacular. Red and Green combined to make the purest gold and from this thread, splinters formed and spread out, not unlike a spider's web and very quickly, Harry and Voldemort were cocooned inside. A couple of Death Eaters tried to force their way in and were rebuffed strongly. As Tom was ordering his followers to retreat, Harry noticed a ball of light, suspended on the thread of magic that connected his wand with Voldemort's and as he noticed it, it began to move away from him. For a few seconds, the bead traveled away from Harry but as it approached, Tom's wand began to vibrate and pulse violently. The more it shook, the harder Voldemort tried to push the bead back, but eventually it connected, and from his wand began to issue ghostly images.

First of the silver hand of Peter Pettigrew, then the forms became people. An elderly man, that Harry recognized as the groundskeeper he had seen through a vision over the past summer, then a woman, who Harry recognized as Bertha Jorkins. It wasn't until her head sprouted, that Harry realized that his mother would be the next one to join them, followed seconds later by his father. As he laid eyes upon his parents forms, that strange, hot sensation returned. From his core he felt it spread and envelope him. The look on Voldemort's face, as he saw the forms of his victims was that of sheer terror. They circled him and looked down upon him. They spoke to both, encouraging Harry and cursing Voldemort. On their mark, Harry gave a mighty tug and the connection was severed. The ghostly specters descended upon Voldemort, who began to fire curses at the figures, to no effect.

Harry ran. Back to Cedric, back to the portkey. He hear the Death Eaters chase after him, and he pointed his wand over his shoulder and began to fire blindly, the heat in his core escaping with every spell he fired. Death Eaters found themselves frozen in mid leap, or ducking Reductor curses that seemed to dissolve anything they came into contact with. They tried to capture Harry when they could, but he was too small a target and had too much of a lead on them. But all of a sudden, Voldemort's voice appeared at the front of the chase pack, casting spells to kill Harry, but with no success. Harry came skidding to a stop just above Cedric's unmoving body and threw a reductor curse at a tombstone to try and create a diversion.

"_Accio Cup!_" Voldemort yelled, and Harry watched, stricken as the Triwizard cup lurched from the ground and raced toward his nemesis through the air. By the time Harry had time to react, it had soared past him and was almost to Voldemort. In desperation, Harry did the only thing that came to mind.

"Accio!"

Just as the cup thudded into Voldemort's outstretched hand, Harry's spell hit it's mark. In an instant, the cup was ripped from Voldemort and appeared in Harry's possession. Harry heard the angry scream from his foe, just as the portkey activated.

Seconds later, Harry arrived back at the center of the maze, Cedric Diggory's comatose body by his left side, the Triwizard Cup, with a pale white arm still grasping the other handle, in his right.

* * *

There was so much chaos once everyone realized that Harry and Cedric had disappeared, that thirty minutes later, few initially realized that Harry had returned. Harry looked around, the heat in his core dissipating, leaving nothing but fatigue. He wanted to get out of here, he had to. He needed to tell Dumbledore about Voldemort. A hand grasped his arm and Harry turned to find Mad Eye Moody, looking over him, worry on his face.

"Come on Potter, let's get you out of here."

Other teachers and judges were running towards them, Cedric's parent's among them and as much as Harry wanted to, he just wasn't up to face any of them yet. So he let Cedric's arm slip from his grip, along with the cup and it's grizzly souvenir. The hedges that had been such an obstacle before, seemed to melt before the ex-auror and within minutes the duo was outside the maze. As they got to the school, Daphne seemed to materialize from nowhere, melting from the shadows and quickly lifting Harry's right arm over her shoulder and helping to support him.

"Here, we can stop in my office and I'll floo the infirmary." Moody jerked his head toward the door to his classroom door, which opened at his beckoning and the trio slipped inside. Before Harry could sit down, Moody dropped him and stepped away, wand trained at the engaged pair. Before either could react, both were disarmed and at the wand point of someone they had trusted implicitly just a minute ago.

"I don't know how you survived Potter, but my master will be most pleased when I deliver you for the second time. Not only you, but your blood traitor of a girlfriend as well. I'm sure he'll go easy on you if you pledge your loyalty to him, Miss Greengrass."

Daphne felt like her brain was five minutes in the past, nothing was making sense. Harry disappearing, then reappearing. She had been one of the first to notice their arrival, and she made a mad run for the castle as soon as she saw Moody lead Harry out. Now she was being held hostage by her professor and she didn't know what to do. So she answered truthfully.

She shook her head.

"You won't give up this boy?" Moody asked, surprise evident in his voice. Daphne stood her ground. "So be it. You can die along with the boy."

Harry was so tired. He felt more drained of energy than ever before. The power he had used in the graveyard seemed to be gone and he didn't have his wand. Daphne was likewise without her wand and Moody, was apparently working for Voldemort.

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell came from seemingly nowhere and caught everyone by surprise. The three wands in Moody's possession flew from his grasp and sailed toward an empty corner of the classroom. Ron Weasley stepped out from Harry's invisibility cloak and Tracey Davis caught the wands, while simultaneously leveling hers at Moody. Everyone was so shocked that no one batted an eye when the door exploded under the power of Dumbledore who immediately subdued Moody. Stepping through the door, everyone present realized why Voldemort would fear Dumbledore. Gone was the warm, grandfatherly look, replaced by someone who radiated power and control. Behind him, Madam Pomfrey hurried through the shattered wooden remains and Professors Snape and McGonagall. The mediwitch hurried over to Harry, while McGonagall, who knew enough not to get in Poppy Pomfrey's way when the health of a patient was involved, confronted Ron and Tracey.

While Harry was being bombarded with medical questions, both he and Daphne were trying to tell the Headmaster what had happened, while Snape merely watched the unconscious Moody.

"Mr. Potter needs rest, but is otherwise fine." The kindly nurse declared, looking to the headmaster for direction.

"What about my arm and leg?" Harry asked. He motioned to the cut in his robes from Pettigrew's knife and Madame Pomfrey grabbed his arm and moved aside the dirty material, only to expose dried blood, but no cut or even a scar.

"I don't know what you're talking about Mr. Potter, but besides a rather nasty case of exhaustion, you're in good health." A quiet pop announced the arrival of a house-elf, who carried to vials of potion, one Harry realized was the Veritiserum that Snape had threatened him with earlier on in the year, while the other was a sleeping draught. The later was pushed into his hands against his protest, and quickly poured down his throat. The last thing Harry recalled before sleep overtook him, was Alastar Moody's body transforming into a much younger form, one that Harry had seen in Dumbledore's pensive a month before.

* * *

Sound. That was the first thing Harry felt. Sound that became voices and voices that his mind quickly put pictures too. Daphne and Paul arguing with Dumbledore. Hermione, Ron and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley quietly conversing. The next sensation was smell. Antiseptic, clean. Hospital wing. Wet dog, that would be Sirius. The stiff, rough sheets of the bed woke his nerves up and before long he was opening his eyes and groaning at the bright light. All the noise stopped.

"What happened...with Crouch?" He asked, through dry. He looked at Dumbledore, hoping for answers.

"We questioned Barty Crouch Jr. under truth serum and he confessed to everything, placing your name in the goblet, turning the cup into a portkey and sending you to the graveyard. He admitted to serving Lord Voldemort, to all the crimes he was charged with after the first war." Harry smiled at the good news. Daphne had placed a glass of ice water in his hands and after taking a sip, he continued.

"So what is the Ministry doing? More Aurors, or are they hunting for him?" At the question, everyone looked away and became sheepish.

"They're not doing anything." Ron said. "Before anyone else could question him, Fudge had him kissed."

"But Voldemort's back, they have to do something!" Harry argued, sitting up as his voice rose.

"The Minister is choosing to not believe us, or you." Paul explained. "Even when you turned back up with the cup and a severed arm, all the Minister would believe is that Crouch was working with someone who tried to bring the Dark Lord back. He says there's no evidence that he's actually back."

That jogged Harry's memory, of the graveyard, the duel...Cedric.

"What about Cedric?"

"Mr. Diggory is in a comatose state, deeper than petrification, and has been moved to St. Mungo's in hope that they will be able to help him." Dumbledore's answer gave Harry pause. Cedric wasn't dead, but he was comatose, and for all intents, just barely connected to life.

"Harry, you should be very proud of how you handled yourself. Whatever you did, saved Cedric's life, I have no doubt that Lord Voldemort was trying to kill him, and because of you, he is alive." Dumbledore always seemed to know what Harry was thinking. "And as for the ministry, there is only so long that they will be able to maintain their story. In the interim, there are those of us who are dedicated to fighting him. He will not remain unopposed."

Harry had so many questions, but before he could ask any more, Madame Pomfrey came over and chased out everyone except the Headmaster. Once she was content that he wouldn't hurt himself by sitting up, she allowed Harry to speak with Dumbledore, alone, for the first time. Harry found himself describing the heat he felt, and the voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. He told the headmaster everything he could remember from the time Voldemort rose form the cauldron, to the time he took the sleeping draught.

"I'm afraid I cannot answer your questions, Harry. Not because I do not want to, but because, what you have described, this heat and voices such as the one you described, I've never heard of anything like it." The Headmaster was able to explain why Harry's wand connected with Voldemort's. Priori Incantatem, all brought about because their wands share the same core, a tail feather from Fawkes.

Once the Headmaster had finished explaining all he could to Harry, he allowed the others to return, but at Harry's request, allowed Paul and Daphne, along with Sirius in first. Once they were alone, Harry asked Daphne something he remembered from the previous night.

"Did you mean it, when you told Crouch that you'd rather stay with me, than join Voldemort?" Besides a small flinch at the name, Daphne's answer was adamant.

"Absolutely. I realized that I'd rather stay with you, fight with you, than join him." Harry turned to Paul.

"You realize that this will make you targets, right?" To the surprise of all, Paul smiled.

"Well, truth be told, we would probably be targets regardless of Daphne's association with you. See, I do a lot of work for a lot of Death Eaters, and as soon as they realize just how much power I have over their money, they'll not be too pleased."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. Paul gave a sheepish smile.

"Do you know the golden rule?"

"Always treat other as you would like to be treated?"

"Well, yes, but not the one I'm thinking of."

"Always say please and thank you?"

"Well, I suppose, but again, not the one I'm thinking of."

"Always eat your vegetables?"

"No, but the one I mean is, 'Those that have the gold make the rules.'"

"I've heard of it, but I don't see how-"

"What Dad means, is that if money equals power, knowing where the money is hidden controls power."

"See, Harry, I launder money for a lot of 'influential' people. If they want to bribe someone, the money can't be traced back to them. They come to me, and I make it happen."

This confession caused Sirius to forget where he was, and transformed out of his animagus form.

"I knew there was something not right about you!" He yelled, marching around Harry's bed toward Paul, who upon seeing 'The Mass Murderer' Sirius Black, coming at him, grabbed Daphne and backed away, only for Harry to stop his Godfather.

"Sirius! Stop it! You heard him, once people find out that he basically controls their gold, he'll be a target for sure."

Hearing his godson's protest, Sirius paused and looked Paul over again.

"Are you willing to use whatever resources you have to help Harry?"

Paul just looked back at Sirius, as if sizing him up.

"I'll do whatever I have to, to protect my family. In just over three weeks, Harry will be family. I might not be much of a fighter, but I'll help however I can." This seemed to be the correct answer, and in that moment a tentative truce was formed.

* * *

One week later, Harry found himself enduring a car trip alone with his Uncle. They were having guests over for dinner, new neighbors or something, and Petunia had to stay back to finish dinner. As they pulled into the carport, Vernon gave one last reminder that he was to keep any freakishness at bay for the evening. Since these were neighbors, there was really no way to keep Harry hidden from them. As Harry retrieved hi trunk from the boot of his Uncle's car, Vernon had stepped inside to find that the new neighbors were already there, one of them at least. He quickly introduced himself and called for Harry to hurry up and get in here to introduce himself. Harry received quite the shock when he walked inside and saw the smiling face of Paul Greengrass.

"The girls will be here momentarily, they had some last minute shopping to do." Paul explained, all the while enjoying the puzzled looks the Durlsey's were sharing.

* * *

**(A/N: Wow! Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. I so glad that so many of you are still enjoying this. Well, this is by far the longest chapter I've written in terms of pages, so I hope you all enjoy it. We get to see a bit of what Harry's power this chapter, more will come starting next chapter, but until then, I welcome all guesses. Also, next chapter will be the wedding, so those of you who have been waiting have that to look forward to.**

**Thanks again for all the support, and I do hope you like this, even though it's very similar to the book.)**


	8. Chapter 8

_Weddings, as they exist today, are complicated, messy affairs that do little more than rob all those who attend of time. No one enjoys dressing up in ridiculous suits and dresses and having to make small talk with the bride's roommate's ex-boyfriend. Women have been told far too often that the day they wed should be this spectacular, glorious, perfect day and that anything less is unacceptable and will make for an unhappy marriage. So they plan. And they revise. And they continue planning and revising, until the original plan is not worth the expensive, embossed stationary it was written on and the process begins again. Instead of simplifying, many couples pass the stress (and a lot of money) on to a third party, the wedding planner, whose job it is to make all the arrangements and coordinate the various personnel needed for the rapidly expanding event. A guest list that, at one point had been a manageable fifty or so, has quickly ballooned to triple that amount, including people who, while taking no part in the wedding, seem to think that they have the right to request that no red meat be served, even though the other hundred and forty-nine guests rather enjoy a good steak. Then comes the big day, where, despite all the planning (both on the part of the wedding party and the highly paid consultant) nothing seems to go right. Dresses, which when tried on months ago, fit perfectly are suddenly too small or too large, people seem to go missing and despite all the current weather conditions bear no resemblance to what the forecaster called for, whatsoever._

_Indeed, it is often said that rain is the Goddess of Love's way of spitting in the face of these overly choreographed monstrosities. It should be noted that the previous sentence is an opinion, not because the actions of the Goddess are in doubt, but because no proof exists one way or the other, that the woman claiming to be the modern day Aphrodite, is in fact, divine. _

_Bronwen O'Riley is a perfectly pleasant women, residing and working in Las Vegas at a small wedding chapel that has a remarkably low rate of divorce among it's patrons. The building is located just off the Strip and is squeezed between a gas station and a gun store. Pictures line the entryway, dating back to the founding of the business in 1925, containing many a happy couple as they are pronounced 'Man and Wife' by a woman who looks suspiciously by Bronwen's twin sister. The proprietors attribute their success to the sense of union they bring to each and every ceremony. _

"_We aim to remind our customers that a wedding isn't just about the Bride and Groom." Eric O'Riley, Bronwen's husband/business partner/keyboardist points out. "A marriage is a union, Bride and Groom are no longer two people who love each other, but are now one complete entity. But even more, the two families are united by their children. This is how we view marriage, the bringing together of two people, two groups, two ideas and when they leave us, they are one."_

_Whether or not modern weddings have lost the plot and have become more monster than matrimony is a matter of opinion, but if having the correct opinion were based on success, than the O'Riley's would certainly be correct._

* * *

Harry knew that it had only been a few days since he had been on vacation, but this was by far the best time outside of Hogwarts he had ever had. The Dursley's could get away with treating Harry like an indentured servant while no one was checking on them, but now that Daphne and her family had moved next door, they were forced to treat Harry civilly. Not that he was spending much time with them, now that he had someone to hang out with, Harry was spending his time with Daphne. Their wedding was schedule for the 1st of July, just over two weeks from now. Having to explain the Dursley's that he was engaged was not something that Harry had been looking forward to, but he had been hoping to at least do it on his own terms.

You know, from behind a locked door.

Instead, Paul had made it quickly clear that he wouldn't be leaving the house on that first evening without Vernon and Petunia knowing just what would be expected of them regarding the upcoming nuptials. The wedding that Harry and Daphne had planned was very minimal, Daphne's family were coming, including both of Maggie's parents and Paul's mother, two uncles and one aunt as well as three cousins. Tracey would be coming, and there were a couple of others, including Professor Dumbledore, who Harry had invited.

Harry's list was much smaller, and wouldn't have included the Dursley's at all, except that tradition dictated that a member from both the bride and groom's family be present at the ceremony. Hermione and Ron were coming, as well as the entire Weasley family. Harry had invited the rest of his dorm mates, but so far had received word that only Neville would be attending, and of course Sirius and Remus would be there. All in all, there were about thirty people attending, small enough that the ceremony would be held at the Greengrass' new house.

Aside from getting out of the Dursley's sight, spending time with Daphne allowed Harry to feel as if he were contributing something to the wedding, even though most of the planning had been completed for some time. Despite living together for the last nine months, both Harry and Daphne were struck by just how real this was all becoming. It's one thing to talk about a marriage and another thing completely to be finalizing the guest list. But they were taking it in stride, joking about how best to make Ron pay for his months of abandonment, sitting next to Tracey or as far away as possible from Maggie.

And when all the planning and talk of dresses and flowers became too much for Harry, Paul would pull him from the conversation and the two would go wander about the house and speak of other, manlier things. Harry told Paul of how he had been chosen to the quidditch team, some of the many adventures that he had been involved in over the years, of inflating his aunt the summer that he had first met Daphne and Paul. In return, Paul had told Harry of his work, how he had become involved in such a lucrative, albeit illegal, business, of his time at school and some stories of Daphne from her youth. They had discussed many things, and on this day, their topic was the house they were now living in.

It was a rather dreary day and Daphne was doing her summer Runes work, while Maggie and Astoria were out. Harry and Paul were in the game room playing their fourth game of billiards of the day. One of the first things that Harry had noticed about the house, was that there was no magical modifications to it.

"Well, there are a couple of reasons for it." Paul had answered when asked. "Truthfully, we only moved here for safety. Now that the Dark Lord is back, the manor wasn't safe, so we decided, essentially, to go into hiding. But with all the events going on, instead of moving out of the country, we decided to hide in the muggle world. It's not perfect, but since the people looking for us look down on muggles, they won't have any contacts in this world. If they want to find us, they'll have to work for it"

Guilt was the first feeling that Harry reached for, but Paul, who Harry had come to realize was excellent at reading emotions from people's body language, put a stop to that.

"Don't feel guilty Harry. This is something I've been planning for since the moment I started laundering money. In my job, Harry, I've worked for some people who have used their money to buy their way out of charges that would make you sick. I've helped people accused of the worst crimes you can imagine and while I pride myself on my skills, it doesn't make me infallible and I've been preparing for the day that either the government or a former client comes after me or my family."

"But why not fight?" Harry found himself asking. He was a Gryffindor, bravery was something he had in spades, and more often than not, bravery meant fighting. Paul chuckled a bit as he line up a shot on the seven ball. Smoothly stroking the cue, the offending ball was swiftly deposited into the side pocket. "Because Harry, I'm not a fighter. Remember, knowing a lot of spells doesn't make someone fit for combat. I don't have the instincts or the power to be an effective fighter. What I am good at is covering my tracks, so that's what I've done. We'll be living completely without magic until this is over, and that's not a bad thing. I've wanted my children to have an appreciation for what muggles can do and I have to say, I think I've done pretty well."

He lined up another shot, but this time the ball refused to go into the pocket, and Harry surveyed the table to find a shot. He was still learning, since prior to this summer he'd never seen, let alone played billiards before. He enjoyed the game, while strategy and thinking ahead had never been great strengths of his, with billiards it seemed easier than when chess pieces were critiquing you. His stroke wasn't as smooth or sure as Paul's, but Harry's next shot sunk the 4 ball easily enough.

"Ok, but why this house? If you're trying to hide, staying next to me can't be the best option right? Voldemort knows where I live, but he can't get to me, what's protecting you?"

"You mean besides my camouflage?" Paul watched as Harry sank another ball and waited for the cue to stop moving on the felt top. "Would you believe that you are?" Harry seemed to hesitate and his next shot bounced of the rail, left of the corner pocket. "The Headmaster was kind enough to extend the area covered by the wards that protect your relatives."

"How is that possible, I thought that the wards only worked where my aunt lived?" Paul took two quick shots, pocketing two more balls. "I don't profess to know the intricate details of the wards, but because this property will belong to you and Daphne, I guess as long as the wards stand on your Aunt's house, they'll stand here."

Harry was caught very much unaware by this revelation and his choked cry of surprise caused Paul to scratch his next shot.

"I didn't mean to alarm you, Harry, I thought you knew. Since weddings cost very little in the wizard world, the customary gift from the bride's family is a home, or plot of land. This just happens to work well for us because of the current times. I understand you probably didn't see yourself living on Privet Drive once you graduated, and if you wished to sell the property once you have no more use of it, it does belong to both of you."

"Th-thank you." Harry stammered. This was...a lot, but at the same time, one of the nicest things he'd ever received. Paul studied Harry, his future son-in-law was quite interesting. He was noble, almost to a fault, and exceptionally self-sacrificing. His major fault seemed to stem from a lack of confidence, something which was correctable, and Paul intended to help Harry in that area.

"Harry," He said, walking over to the boy and placing a hand on his shoulder. "When I told your godfather that I would protect my family, including you, with everything in my disposal, I meant it, I know that what you and I consider defense are two different things, but perhaps if we understood each other better, we might be able to protect our family better."

"I don't know that I understand, are you offering to teach me...the things you do?" Harry asked.

"If you want." Was the reply. "What I can offer is you is information, what you do with it is, of course, up to you."

"I think I'd like that, but I don't know what I can offer you." Paul smiled warmly.

"How about you help us acclimate to our new surroundings, and we'll take it from there."

Harry smiled. "I can do that. Was there something in particular wanted to know about?"

"Well, those mini-records, the shiny ones; how do they work?"

* * *

Daphne was glad that Harry was getting along well with her parents, partially because her own interactions with the Durlsey's had been so poor, but also it allowed her to see Harry more, an undeniable plus. When they were at school, their studies always seemed to dominate any conversations they had. It was a safe topic, one that wouldn't require any great personal truths or secrets to be revealed and it was a nice conversation piece. 'Oh, potions is so difficult' or 'why can't transfiguration move on already, I've already learned that'. But now that they were mere days away from their wedding and that they rarely weren't spending time with each other, that topic just couldn't suffice.

They had been working on an essay for History of Magic, well, Harry was working on it, Daphne had finished and was helping her betrothed. They had this unspoken understanding, that until both had finished their work, the other wouldn't move on. So when she wasn't looking over Harry's shoulder, Daphne was laying on her bed, either watching him or perusing her books. Normally she might have tried reading an issue of Witch Weekly, but with all that gossip rag could do was speculate on her wedding and the last thing that Daphne wanted was more talk about her nuptials. Honestly, how people could believe that the Queen would be attending was beyond her.

"There!" Harry triumphantly exclaimed. "Done!" Daphne got up and grabbed his parchment off the table he was writing on and began to read over his work.

"You got Ug the Unreliable and Urg the Unclean confused...again." She corrected, pointing out his mistake. It wasn't that he'd confused the individuals, but the years in which their had started their rebellions. "You have been taking this class since first year, right?" Daphne asked, sarcasm and mirth lacing her voice.

"Yes." Was Harry's dejected reply.

"And you remember that this was on the exam back then, right? You realized that this essay was to help you remember the old material, right?" Daphne prodded, both metaphorically as well as digging her elbow into Harry's back.

"In my defense, I was a bit preoccupied before our finals back then. Quirrell was trying to steal the Philosopher's stone, so pardon me if I couldn't focus all of my attention on a test!" It had started as a joke, but only after the words were out of his mouth did Harry realize what he had said. He hadn't told Daphne about his 'adventure' at the end of their first year, after all, there were enough rumors going around, many of them suspiciously near the truth, that he didn't feel it was necessary.

"I still can't believe that Professor Quirrell would try and steal the Philosopher's stone." Daphne opined.

"Well, he was working with Voldemort." Harry pointed out. There was a pause. Daphne wanted to ask about what had happened. Ever since Harry had told her about the Chamber of Secrets, she had realized that the rumors about her boyfriend were probably true, but she didn't know just how much of the legend of Harry Potter would remain under scrutiny. Her problem was that Harry, when pushed, tended to retreat and shut down. But he had brought it up, so there was a small chance that he would be willing to share, and Daphne decided that this would be her best chance to learn about Harry's legend for a while.

"Harry, I'm sure you know that there are many rumors about some of the things you've done, and I...I was hoping you'd be willing to tell me about them. I don't need to know every little thing, but...I would love to know the truth."

"All right. What do you want to know?"

Harry's answer was sure and swift. Daphne was taken completely by surprise.

"I figured that either we're past the stage where we keep secrets from each other, or it's just around the corner. So what would you like to know?"

"Everything." Daphne said, smiling at how much trust Harry was putting in her. "But you're right, we shouldn't be keeping any secrets from one another, so let's both share until we've got none left."

And so they did. Minutes became hours, which became days and before anyone was really prepared for it, July1st was upon them.

* * *

It was strange, Harry thought, that as the ceremony grew closer, the more sure and relaxed he felt. July first had started off very tense for the boy, he hadn't been able to eat more than a small bowl of Cheerios on account of his nerves. The night previous, he had cleared a major hurdle, by meeting Daphne's extended family, everyone from both Paul and Maggie's family had come, and Harry had acquitted himself well, he thought. Paul's mother, Ann, had even given him a formal approval. In fact, everyone had seemed rather impressed with him, everyone except Erin. She was the youngest of the family, at only nine, and was Daphne and Astoria's cousin via Paul's brother, Darren. She didn't seemed too impressed with him, and outright told him that he wasn't good enough for her cousin. At this point, her father, stepped in and apologized for her behavior, saying that long distance travel always made her grouchy.

For the majority of the day, Harry was relegated to greeting the arriving guests, and since most of them had arrived the night prior, this was a very sporadic process. Sirius and Remus were the first to arrive, though Sirius had to come as Snuffles, whenever he was able, he'd transform back and joke around with his godson. Hermione quickly wrapped Harry in a strong hug upon arriving, she seemed to be having a good summer and was happy to see her best friend, even though they'd only been apart for a couple of weeks. The Weasley's arrived with a minimum of fuss, Molly was still threatening Fred and George with some punishments that Filch would have loved if they misbehaved.

"Please mother, we've enough sense not to ruin Harry-kin's big day."

"Besides, we've really not had time to properly plan anything."

Had they left it there, Molly would probably have let sleeping dog lie.

"Unlike Ron's wedding."

"That is, of course, assuming he can find someone to marry him."

People continued to file into the house and while Harry knew (and had invited) most of the guests, there were a few that Paul had to introduce as they were friends and/or teammates of Maggie. When Gwenog Jones arrived, Ron and Ginny very nearly ran away from Harry to follow the famous witch, who paid them absolutely no heed and went off to find Daphne, whom she had baby sat for when she was just out of Hogwarts.

The ceremony was to take place at three, and the reception at five but by two-thirty, the only ones who hadn't shown up were Dean (who was on vacation with his mother), Seamus (who according to Neville wouldn't be coming) and the Dursleys (who had told him that they'd be in their seats at three, but not a minute earlier). Many of the guests had noticed that the Dursley's weren't present, which was a strike against them and by the time they arrived and took their seats (at three on the dot) they received many a disgusted look. Thankfully, for the Dursley's, Daphne began her walk down the aisle right on time and all focus fell to her.

Now, their wedding couldn't be called traditional by any stretch of the imagination, but Daphne had insisted upon a few elements that were customary among old, pureblood families. Her robes were one of these elements and it took Harry's breath away the moment he saw her in it. It was white velvet, with fleur-de-lis of the palest gold he had ever seen embroidered throughout. The bottom portion was very much like a muggle wedding dress, but the upper portion had full sleeves and a collar that covered most of her neck. Her hair was straightened and she wore very little make-up, just a little gray eye shadow that made the icy blue of her eyes project and hypnotize. Harry was not the only one to fall under her spell, as throughout the audience, more than a few men were having to raise their jaws from the floor and a larger number of the women were cursing that someone so young should be so beautiful- or that her husband could be Harry Potter.

One moment she had just stepped into his line of sight and the next Harry was holding this angel, his angel's hands as they shared one last look as anything other than husband and wife.

* * *

The rest of July seemed to pass by much slower than the whirlwind that had preceded it, but Harry and Daphne both relished the opportunity to take things slow for the first time in their relationship. By the end of what was without a doubt the greatest month of his life, Harry was able to celebrate his birthday with his new family. Hermione, and Ron had sent gifts, as they couldn't be there in person, Sirius, who was staying with the Greengrass', had been able to deliver his in person, and he had received letters wishing him well from Tracey, Neville, Fleur, Dumbledore and Viktor. It wasn't an extravagant evening, but it was more fun than Harry had ever had on Privet Drive, and by the time he had returned to his room at Number Four, arms laden with gifts, he was worn out and looking forward to a good rest. He placed his gifts on the bed and quietly made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. It wasn't until he had returned and was clearing off his bed did he notice that something was new. Beneath the other letters he had received that day, there was a new one, at least, Harry didn't remember it from earlier, clearly addressed to him and laying neatly at the bottom of his pile of gifts.

_**Harry Potter**_

This was all that was written on the envelope, in neat, flowing script. Harry picked it up and easily slid the flap on the back open. Inside was a single sheet of parchment, upon which was the same elaborate writing.

_Harry,_

_Although you do not know me, and by the time you receive this letter, I will be long gone from this world, please know that I owe you a debt that I am incapable of paying. The best I can attempt is to try and pass on my knowledge. What I am going to teach you is both similar to, yet vastly different, from the the magic you are accustomed. They are related, intertwined fields, yet they are, at the same time, both superior and inferior to each other. If this seems a bit overwhelming, I apologize, but I arranged for more letters to be sent via an intermediary, and my books have been moved into your vault at Gringott's, these will be instrumental if you are to understand what I will be teaching you, alchemy, the basis for magic as you know it. _

_Humbly Yours,_

_Nicholas Flamel_

* * *

**(AN: Sorry this is late. School's been really tough this quarter for some reason and while I've had parts of this written for a while, I'm not too happy with it, but for the sake of getting to things that I actually want to write, I'll post it and let come what may.**

**In the spirit of fair warning as well as a bit of a teaser, I will be using some elements from FullMetal Alchemist, notably, equivalent exchange and the definition of alchemy. Maybe transmutation circles, but that is about it. No characters will be crossing over and the process for creating a philosopher's stone will be different. Not exactly sure what it will be, or even if it matters, but it won't be the same as FMA. Hopefully this doesn't scare too many people away, and who knows, maybe it will even excite a few people.**

**Also, a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed my last chapter, words of encouragement/ego boosting are always accepted. I do hope everyone will enjoy this chapter, and please wait for the next one, it won't be as long a wait, this I promise.**


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